THE 


LITERARY  CHARACTER, 

ILLUSTRATED 


THE  HISTORY 

or 


01?  QRNITJS, 


BRAWN    FROM   THEIR   OWN   FEELINGS   AND    CO 


SY  THE  AUTKOR  OF  "  CURIOSITIES  OF  LITERATURE. 


ki  Poi  che  veder  voi  stessi  rion  potete, 
Vedete  in  altri  almen  quel  che  voi  sete." 

Cino  da  Pisloia,  addressed  to  the  Eyes  of  his  Mistress' 


NEW-FORK: 

PUBLISHED   BY   JAMES    EASTBITRN   AND    CO* 

AT   THE   LITERARY  ROOMS,  BROADWAY^ 

CORNER   OF  PINE-STREET* 

1818, 


^  WX  WX  WWWWVWX  WV  WX 

J.  &  J.  Harper,  Printers. 

<VVVWVW\WWWWV'W\'WX 


PREFACE. 


I 

I  PUBLISHED,  in  1795,  "  an  Essay  on  the 
Literary  Character;"  to  my  own  habitual 
and  inherent  defects,  were  superadded 
those  of  rny  youth;  the  crude  production 
was,  however,  not  ill  received,  for  the 
Edition  disappeared ;  and  the  subject 
was  found  to  be  more  interesting  than 
the  writer. 

During  the  long  interval  which  has 
elapsed  since  the  first  publication,  the 
little  volume  was  often  recalled  to  my 
recollection,  by  several,  and  by  some  who 
have  since  obtained  celebrity ;  they  ima- 
gined that  their  attachment  to  literary 
pursuits  had  been  strengthened  even  by 
so  weak  an  effort.  An  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstance has  concurred  with  these  opin- 


/ 


4  PREFACE. 

ions; — a  copy  which  has  accidentally  fallen 
into  my  hands  formerly  belonged  to  the 
great  poetical  genius  of  our  times ;  and 
the  singular  fact  that  it  was  twice  read  by 
him  in  two  subsequent  years,  at  Athens, 
in  1810  and  1811,  instantly  convinced  me 
that  the  volume  deserved  my  attention. 
I  tell  this  fact  assuredly,  not  from  any  little 
vanity  which  it  may  appear  to  betray,  for 
the  truth  is,  were  I  not  as  liberal  and  as 
candid  in  respect  to  my  own  productions, 
as  I  hope  I  am  to  others,  I  could  not  have 
been  gratified  by  the  present  circum- 
stance ;  for  the  marginal  notes  of  the 
noble  writer  convey  no  flattery — but 
amidst  their  pungency  and  sometimes 
their  truth,  the  circumstance  that  a  man 
of  genius  could,  and  did  read,  this  slight 
effusion  at  two  different  periods  of  his  life, 
was  a  sufficient  authority,  at  least  for  an 
author,  to  return  it  once  more  to  the  anvil ; 
more  knowledge,  and  more  maturity  of 
thought,  I  may  hope,  will  now  fill  up  the 
rude  sketch  of  my  youth ;  its  radical  de- 
fects, those  which  are  inherent  in  every 


PREFACE,  5 

author,  it  were  unwise  for  me  to  hope  to 
remove  by  suspending  the  work  to  a  more 
remote  period. 

It  may  be  thought  that  men  of  genius 
only  should  write  on  men  of  genius ;  as  if 
it  were  necessary  that  the  physician 
should  be  infected  with  the  disease  of  his 
patient.  He  is  only  an  observer,  like  Sy- 
denham  who  confined  himself  to  vigilant 
observation,  and  the  continued  experience 
of  tracing  the  progress  of  actual  cases 
(and  in  his  department,  but  not  in  mine) 
in  the  operation  of  actual  remedies.  He 
beautifully  says — "  Whoever  describes  a 
violet  exactly  as  to  its  colour,  taste,  smell, 
form,  and  other  properties,  will  find  the 
description  agree  in  most  particulars  with 
all  the  violets  in  the  universe." 

Nor  do  I  presume  to  be  any  thing  more 
than  the  historian  of  genius;  whose  humble 
office  is  only  to  tell  the  virtues  and  the 
infirmities  of  his  heroes.  It  is  the  fash- 
ion of  the  present  day  to  raise  up  daz- 

A   2 


PREFACE. 


zling  theories  of  genius  ;  to  reason  a  pri- 
ori;  to  promulgate  abstract  paradoxes; 
to  treat  with  levity  the  man  of  genius, 
because  he  is  only  a  man  of  genius.  I  have 
sought  for  facts,  and  have  often  drawn 
results  unsuspected  by  myself.  I  have 
looked  into  literary  history  for  the  litera- 
ry character.  I  have  always  had  in  my 
mind  an  observation  of  Lord  Bolingbroke 
— "  Abstract,  or  general  propositions, 
though  never  so  true,  appear  obscure  or 
doubtful  to  us  very  often  till  they  are  ex- 
plained by  examples ;  when  examples  are 
pointed  out  to  us,c  there  is  a  kind  of  ap- 
peal, With  which  we  are  flattered,  made 
to  our  senses,  as  well  as  to  our  understand- 
ings. The  instruction  comes  then  from 
our  authority;  we  yield  to  fact  when  we 
resist  speculation."  This  will  be  truth 
long  after  the  encyclopedic  geniuses  of 
the  present  age,  who  write  on  all  subjects, 
and  with  most  spirit  on  those  they  know 
least  about,  shall  have  passed  away  ;  and 
Time  shall  extricate  Truth  from  the  dead- 
ly embrace  of  Sophistry. 


ON  THE 

LITERARY  CHARACTER, 

be.  ^c. 

CHAPTER  I. 

ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS. 

SINCE  the  discovery  of  that  art  which  multiplies 
at  will  the  productions  of  the  human  intellect, 
and  spreads  them  over  the  universe  in  the  conse- 
quent formation  of  libraries,  a  class  or  order  of 
men  has  arisen,  who  appear  throughout  Europe 
to  have  derived  a  generic  title  in  that  of  literary 
characters  ;  a  denomination  which,  however 
vague,  defines  the  pursuits  of  the  individual, 
and  serves,  at  times,  to  separate  him  from  other 
professions. 

Formed  by  the  same  habits,  and  influenced  by 
the  same  motives,  notwithstanding  the  difference 
of  talents  and  tempers,  the  opposition  of  times 


8  ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS, 

and  places,  they  have  always  preserved  amon§ 
themselves  the  most  striking  family  resemblance. 
The  literary  character,  from  the  objects  in  which 
it  concerns  itself,  is  of  a  more  independent  and 
permanent  nature  than  those  which  are  perpetu- 
ally modified  by  the  change  of  manners,  and  are 
more  distinctly  national.  Could  we  describe  the 
medical,  the  commercial,  or  the  legal  character 
of  other  ages,  this  portrait  of  antiquity  would  be 
like  a  perished  picture  :  the  subject  itself  would 
have  altered  its  position  in  the  revolutions  of 
society.  It  is  not  so  with  the  literary  character. 
The  passion  for  study ;  the  delight  in  books ;  the 
desire  of  solitude  and  celebrity  ;  the  obstructions 
of  life ;  the  nature  of  their  habits  and  pursuits  \ 
the  triumphs  and  the  disappointments  of  literary 
glory ;  all  these  are  as  truly  described  by  Cicero 
and  the  younger  Pliny,  as  by  Petrarch  and  Eras- 
mus, and  as  they  have  been  by  Hume  and  Gibbon. 
The  passion  for  collecting  together  the  treasures 
of  literature  and  the  miracles  of  art,  was  as  insa- 
tiable a  thirst  in  Atticus  as  in  the  French  Peiresc, 
and  in  our  Cracherodes  and  Townleys.  We 
trace  the  feelings  of  our  literary  contemporaries 
in  all  ages,  and  every  people  who  have  deserved 
to  rank  among  polished  nations.  Such  were 
those  literary  characters  who  have  stamped  the 
images  of  their  minds  OB  their  works,  and  that 


ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS.  9 

other  race,  who  preserve  the  circulation  of  this 
intellectual  coinage ; 


of  the  Dead, 


Which  Time  does  still  disperse,  but  not  devour. 

D'Jlvenant's  Gondibert,  c.  v.  s.  38. 

These  literary  characters  now  constitute  an 
important  body,  diffused  over  enlightened  Eu- 
rope, connected  by  the  secret  links  of  congenial 
pursuits,  and  combining  often  insensibly  to  them- 
selves in  the  same  common  labours.  At  London, 
at  Paris,  and  even  at  Madrid,  these  men  feel  the 
same  thirst,  which  is  allayed  at  the  same  foun- 
tains ;  the  same  authors  are  read,  and  the  same 
opinions  are  formed. 

Contemporains  de  tous  les  hommes, 
Et  citoyens  de  tous  les  lieux. 

De  la  Mothe. 

Thus  an  invisible  brotherhood  is  existing 
among  us,  and  those  who  stand  connected  with  it 
are  not  always  sensible  of  this  kindred  alliance. 
Once  the  world  was  made  uneasy  by  rumours  of 
the  existence  of  a  society,  founded  by  that  extra- 
ordinary German  Rosicrucius,  designed  for  the 
search  of  truth  and  the  reformation  of  the  sci- 
ences. Its  statutes  were  yet  but  partially  pro- 


10  ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS. 

mulgated ;  but  many  a  great  principle  in  morals, 
many  a  result  of  science  in  the  concentrated 
form  of  an  axiom  ;  and  every  excellent  work 
which  suited  the  views  of  the  author  to  preserve 
anonymous,  were  mysteriously  traced  to  the  pre- 
sident of  the  Rosicrucians,  and  not  only  the 
society  became  celebrated,  but  abused.  Des- 
cartes,  when  in  Germany,  gave  himself  much 
trouble  to  track  out  the  society,  that  he  might 
consult  the  great  searcher  after  Truth,  but  in 
vain !  It  did  not  occur  to  the  young  reformer 
of  science  in  this  visionary  pursuit,  that  every 
philosophical  inquirer  was  a  brother,  and  that 
the  extraordinary  and  mysterious  personage,  was 
indeed  himself !  for  a  genius  of  the  first  order  is 
always  the  founder  of  a  society,  and,  wherever 
he  may  be,  the  brotherhood  will  delight  to  ac- 
knowledge their  master. 

These  Literary  Characters  are  partially  de- 
scribed by  Johnson,  not  without  a  melancholy 
colouring.  "  To  talk  in  private,  to  think  in  soli- 
tude, to  inquire  or  to  answer  inquiries,  is  the  bu- 
siness of  a  scholar.  He  wanders  about  the  world 
without  pomp  or  terror,  and  is  neither  known  nor 
valued,  but  by  men  like  himself."  But  eminent 
Genius  accomplishes  a  more  ample  design.  He 
belongs  to  the  world  as  much  as  to  a  nation  ;  even 


ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS.  11 

the  great  writer  himself,  at  that  moment,  was  not 
conscious  that  he  was  devoting  his  days  to  cast  the 
minds  of  his  own  contemporaries,  and  of  the  next 
age,  in  the  mighty  mould  of  his  own,  for  he  was 
of  that  order  of  men  whose  individual  genius  of- 
ten becomes  that  of  a  people.  A  prouder  con- 
ception rose  in  the  majestic  mind  of  Milton,  of 
"  that  lasting  fame  and  perpetuity  of  praise,  which 
God  and  good  men  have  consented  shall  be  the 
reward  of  those  whose  PUBLISHED  LABOURS  ad- 
vance the  good  of  mankind." 

Literature  has,  in  all  ages,  encountered  adver- 
saries from  causes  sufficiently  obvious ;  but  other 
pursuits  have  been  rarely  liable  to  discover  ene- 
mies among  their  own  votaries.  Yet  many  litera- 
ry men  openly,  or  insidiously,  would  lower  the 
Literary  Character,  are  eager  to  confuse  the  ranks 
in  the  republic  of  letters,  wanting  the  virtue  which 
knows  to  pay  its  tribute  to  Caesar ;  while  they 
maliciously  confer  the  character  of  author  on  that 
"  Ten  Thousand,"  whose  recent  list  is  not  so 
much  a  muster-roll  of  heroes,  as  a  table  of  pop- 
ulation.* 

We  may  allow  the  political  (Economist  to  sup- 
pose that  an  author  is  the  manufacturer  of  a 

*  See  ft  recent  biographical  account  of  ten  thousand  authors. 


12  ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS. 

certain  ware  for  "  a  very  paltry  recompense,"  as 
their  seer  Adam  Smith  has  calculated.  It  is  use- 
less to  talk  to  people  who  have  nothing  but  mill- 
ions in  their  imagination,  and  whose  choicest  works 
of  art  are  spinning  jennies ;  whose  principle  of 
"  labour"  would  have  all  men  alike  die  in  harness  ; 
or,  in  their  carpentry  of  human  nature,  would  con- 
vert them  into  wheels  and  screws,  to  work  the 
perplexed  movements  of  that  ideal  machinery 
called  "  capital" — these  may  reasonably  doubt  of 
"  the  utility"  of  this  "  unproductive"  race.  Their 
heated  heads  and  temperate  hearts  ma^  satisfy 
themselves  that  "  that  unprosperous  race  of  men, 
called  men  of  letters,"  in  a  system  of  political 
oeconomy,  must  necessarily  occupy  their  present 
state  in  society,  much  as  formerly  when  "  a  scholar 
and  a  beggar  seem  to  have  been  terms  very  nearly 
synonimous."*  But  whenever  the  political  (econ- 
omists shall  feel, — a  calculation  of  time  which 
who  would  dare  to  furnish  them  with  ? — that  the 
happiness  and  prosperity  of  a  people  include 
something  more  permanent  and  more  evident 
than  "  the  wealth  of  a  nation,"  they  may  form 
another  notion  of  the  literary  character. 

A  more  formidable  class  of  ingenious  men  who 
derived  their  reputation  and  even  their  fortune  in 

*  Wealth  of  Nations>  v.  i.  p,  182, 


ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS.  13 

hie  from  their  literary  character,  yet  are  cold  and 
heartless  to  the  interests  of  literature — men  who 
have  reached  their  summit  and  reject  the  ladder  : 
for  those  who  have  once  placed  themselves  high, 
feel  a  sudden  abhorrence  of  climbing.  These 
have  risen  through  the  gradations  of  politics  into 
office,  and  in  that  busy  world  view  everything  in  a 
cloud  of  passions  and  politics ; — they  who  once 
commanded  us  by  their  eloquence  would  now 
drive  us  by  the  single  force  of  despotism ;  like 
Adrian  VI.  who  obtaining  the  Pontificate  as  the 
reward  of  his  studies,  yet  possessed  of  the  Tiara, 
persecuted  students ;  he  dreaded,  say  the  Italians, 
lest  his  brothers  might  shake  the  Pontificate  it- 
self. It  fares  worse  with  authors  when  minds  of 
tbis  cast  become  the  arbiters  of  the  public  opin- 
ion ;  when  the  literary  character  is  first  systemat- 
ically degraded  and  then  sported  with,  as  ele- 
phants are  made  to  dance  on  hot  iron  ;  or  the 
bird  plucked  of  its  living  feathers  is  exhibited  as 
a  new  sort  of  creature  to  invite  the  passengers  ! 
whatever  such  critics  may  plead  to  mortify  the 
vanity  of  authors,  at  least  it  requires  as  much 
to  give  effect  to  their  own  polished  effrontery. 
Lower  the  high  self-reverence,  the  lofty  concep- 
tion of  Genius,  and  you  deprive  it  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  its  powers  with  the  delightfulness 


]4  ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS. 

of  its  character  ;  in  the  blow  you  give  the  musical 
instrument,  the  invisible  soul  of  its  tone  is  for 
ever  lost. 

A  lighter  class  reduce  literature  to  a  mere 
curious  amusement ;  a  great  work  is  likened  to- a 
skilful  game  of  billiards,  or  a  piece  of  music 
finely  executed — and  curious  researches,  to  char- 
ade making  and  Chinese  puzzles.  An  author 
with  them  ns  an  idler  who  will  not  be  idle,  amu- 
sing, or  fatiguing  others,  who  are  completely  so. 
We  have  been  told  that  a  great  genius  should 
not  therefore  "  ever  allow  himself  to  be  sensible 
to  his  own  celebrity,  nor  deem  his  pursuits  of 
much  consequence  however  important  or  suc- 
cessful." Catholic  doctrine  to  mortify  an  author 
into  a  saint;  Lent  all  the  year,  and  self-flagel- 
lation every  day !  This  new  principle,  which  no 
man  in  his  senses  would  contend  with,  had  been 
useful  to  Buflbn  and  Gibbon,  to  Voltaire  and 
Pope, — who  assuredly  were  too  "  sensible  to 
their  celebrity,  and  deemed  their  pursuits  of 
much  consequence,"  particularly  when  "  im- 
portant and  successful."  But  this  point  may 
be  adjusted  when  we  come  to  examine  the  im- 
portance of  an  author,  and  the  privilege  he  may 
possess  of  a  little  anticipating  the  public,  in  his 
self-praise. 


ON*  LITERARY  CHARACTERS.  15 

Such  are  the  domestic  treasons  of  the  literary 
character  against  literature—"  et  tu,  Brute  i" — 
but  a  hero  of  literature  falls  not  though  struck 
at;  he  outlives  his  assassins — and  might  address 
them  in  that  language  of  poetry  and  tenderness 
with  which  a  Mexican  king  reproached  his  trai- 
torous counsellors :  "  You  were  the  feathers  of 
my  wings,  and  the  eyelids  of  my  eyes." 

Every  class  of  men  in  society  have  their  pecu- 
liar sorrows  and  enjoyments,  as  they  have  their 
habits  and  their  characteristics.  In  the  history 
of  men  of  genius,  we  may  often  open  the  secret 
story  of  their  minds;  they  have,  above  others* 
the  privilege  of  communicating  their  own  feel- 
ings, and  it  is  their  talent  to  interest  us,  whether 
with  their  pen  they  talk  of  themselves,  or  paint 
others. 

In  the  history  of  men  of  genius  let  us  not 
neglect  thpse  who  have  devoted  themselves  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  fine  arts ;  with  them  genius 
is  alike  insulated  in  their  studies ;  they  pass 
through  the  same  permanent  discipline.  The  his- 
tories of  literature  and  art  have  parallel  epochs  ; 
and  certain  artists  resemble  certain  authors. — 
Hence  Milton,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Handel! 
One  principle  unites  the  intellectual  arts,  for 


15  ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS. 

in  one  principle  they  originate,  and  thus  it  has 
happened  that  the  same  habits  and  feelings,  and 
the  same  fortunes  have  accompanied  men  who 
have  sometimes,  unhappily,  imagined  that  their 
pursuits  were  not  analogous.  In  the  "  world  of 
ear^nd  eye,"  the  poet,  the  painter,  and  the  musi- 
cian are  kindled  by  the  same  inspiration.  Thus 
all  is  Art  and  all  are  artists !  This  approxima- 
tion of  men  apparently  of  opposite  pursuits  is 
so  natural,  that  when  Gesner,  in  his  inspiring 
letter  on  landscape-painting,  recommends  to  the 
young  painter  a  constant  study  of  poetry  and 
literature,  the  impatient  artist  is  made  to  ex- 
claim, "  Must  we  combine  with  so  many  other 
studies  those  which  belong  to  literary  men? 
Must  we  read  as  well  as  paint  ?"  "  It  is  useless 
to  reply  to  this  question,"  says  Gesner,  "  for  some 
important  truths  must  be  instinctively  felt,  per- 
haps the  fundamental  ones  in  the  arts."  A  truly 
imaginative  artist,  whose  enthusiasm  was  never 
absent  when  he  meditated  on  the  art  he  loved, 
Barry,  thus  vehemently  broke  forth — "  Go  home 
from  the  Academy,  light  up  your  lamps,  and 
exercise  yourselves  in  the  creative  part  of  your 
art,  with  Homer,  with  Livy;  and  all  the  great 
characters,  ancient  and  modern,  for  your  com- 
panions and  counsellors." 


ON  LITERARY  CHARACTERS.  17 

Every  life  of  a  man  of  genius,  composed  by 
himself,  presents  us  with  the  experimental  phi- 
losophy of  the  mind.  By  living  with  their  bro- 
thers, and  contemplating  on  their  masters,  they 
will  judge  from  consciousness  less  erroneously 
than  from  discussion ;  and  in  forming  compara- 
tive views  and  parallel  situations,  they  will  dis- 
cover certain  habits  and  feelings,  and  "find  these 
reflected  in  themselves. 


\ 


CHAPTER  II. 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 


GTENIUS,  that  creative  part  of  art  which  indivi- 
dualises the  artist,  belonging  to  him  and  to  no 
other, — is  it  an  inherent  faculty  in  the  constitu- 
tional dispositions  of  the  individual,  or  can  it  be 
formed  by  the  patient  acquisitions  of  art  ? 

Many  sources  of  genius  have  indeed  been  laid 
open  to  us,  but  if  these  may  sometimes  call  it 
forth,  have  they  ever  supplied  its  want  ?  Could 
Spenser  have  struck  out  a  poet  in  Cowley, 
Richardson  a  painter  in  Reynolds,  and  Descartes 
a  metaphysician  in  Mallebranche,  had  they  not 
borne  that  vital  germ  of  nature,  which,  when 
endowed  with  its  force,  is  always  developing 
itself  to  a  particular  character  of  genius  ?  The 
accidents  related  of  these  men  have  occurred  to 
a  thousand,  who  have  run  the  same  career;  but 
how  does  it  happen,  that  the  multitude  remain  a 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  19 

multitude,  and  the  man  of  genius  arrives  alone 
at  the  goal  ? 

The  equality  of  minds  in  their  native  state 
is  as  monstrous  a  paradox,  or  a  term  as  equivocal 
in  metaphysics,  as  the  equality  of  men  in  the 
political  state.  Both  come  from  the  French 
school  in  evil  times;  and  ought,  therefore,  as 
Job  said,  "  to  be  eschewed."  Nor  can  we  trust 
to  Johnson's  definition  of  genius,  "  as  a  mind  of 
general  powers  accidentally  determined  by  some 
particular  direction,"  as  this  rejects  any  native 
aptitude,  while  we  must  infer  on  this  principle 
that  the  reasoning  Locke,  without  an  ear  of 
an  eye,  could  have  been  the  musical  and  fairy 
Spenser. 

The  automatic  theory  of  Reynolds  stirs  the 
puppet  artist  by  the  wires  of  pertinacious  labour. 
But  industry  without  genius  is  tethered ;  it  has 
stimulated  many  drudges  in  art,  while  it  has  left 
us  without  a  Corregio  or  a  Raphael. 

Akenside  in  that  fine  poem  which  is  itself  a 
history  of  genius,  in  tracing  its  source,  first 
sang, 

From  heaven  my  strains  begin,  from  heaven  descends 
The  flame  of  genius  to  the  human  breast. 


20  YOUTH  OF  GEMUS. 

but  in  the  final  revision  of  that  poem  he  left 
many  years  after,  the  bard  has  vindicated  the 
solitary  and  independent  origin  of  genius  by  the 
mysterious  epithet  the  chosen  breast.  The  vete- 
ran poet  was  perhaps  lessoned  by  the  vicissitudes 
of  his  own  poetical  life,  and  those  of  some  of  his 
brothers. 

But  while  genius  remains  still  wrapt  up  in  its 
mysterious  bud,  may  we  not  trace  its  history  in 
its  votaries  ?  Let  us  compare  although  we  may 
not  always  decide.  If  nature  in  some  of  her 
great  operations  has  kept  her  last  secrets,  and 
even  Newton,  in  the  result  of  his  reasonings, 
has  religiously  abstained  from  penetrating  into 
her  occult  connections,  is  it  nothing  to  be  her 
historian,  although  we  cannnot  be  her  legislator  ? 

Can  we  trace  in  the  faint  lines  of  childhood, 
an  unsteady  outline  of  the  man  ?  In  the  temA 
perament  of  genius  may  we  not  reasonably  look 
for  certain  indications,  or  prognostics  announcing 
the  permanent  character  ?  Will  not  great  sensibil- 
ity be  born  with  its  susceptible  organization  ;  the 
deep  retired  character  cling  to  its  musings ;  and 
the  unalterable  being  of  intrepidity  and  fortitude, 
full  of  confidence,  be  commanding  even  in  his 
sports,  a  daring  leader  among  his  equals  ? 


YQUTH  OF  GENIUS.  21 

The  virtuous  and  contemplative  Boyle  imagin- 
ed that  he  had  discovered  in  childhood  that  dis- 
position of  mind  which  indicated  an  instinctive 
ingenuousness;  an  incident  which  he  relates, 
evinced  as  he  thought,  that  even  then  he  pre- 
ferred aggravating  his  fault,  rather  than  consent 
to  suppress  any  part  of  the  truth,  an  effort  which 
had  been  unnatural  to  his  mind.  His  fanciful, 
yet  striking  illustration  may  open  our  inquiry. 
"  This  trivial  passage" — the  little  story  alluded 
to — "  I  have  mentioned  now,  not  that  I  think 
that  in  itself  it  deserves  a  relation,  but  because 
as  the  sun  is  seen  best  at  his  rising  and  his  set- 
ting, so  men's  native  dispositions  are  clearliest 
perceived  whilst  they  are  children,  and  when 
they  are  dying.  These  little  sudden  actions  are 
the  greatest  discoverers  of  men's  true  humours.'* 
That  the  dispositions  of  genius  in  early  life  pre- 
sage its  future  character,  was  long  the  feeling  of 
antiquity.  Isocrates,  after  much  previous  obser- 
vation of'  those  who  attended  his  lectures,  would 
advise  one  to  engage  in  political  studies,  exhort- 
ed another  to  compose  history,  elected  some  to 
be  poets,  and  some  to  adopt  his  own  profession. 
He  thought  that  nature  had  some  concern  in 
forming  a  man  of  genius ;  and  he  tried  to  guess 
at  her  secret  by  detecting  the  first  energetic 


22  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

inclination  of  the  mind.     This  principle   guided 
the  Jesuits. 


In  the  old  romance  of  King  Arthur,  when  a 
cowherd  comes  to  the  king  to  request  he  would 
make  his  son  a  knight — "  It  is  a  great  thing  thou 
askest,"  said  Arthur,  who  inquired  whether  this 
entreaty  proceeded  from  him  or  his  son .?  The 
old  man's  answer  is  remarkable — "  Of  my  son, 
not  of  me  ;  for  I  have  thirteen  sons,  and  all 
these  will  fall  to  that  labour  I  put  them  ;  but  this 
child  will  not  labour  for  me,  for  any  thing  that 
I  and  my  wife  will  do ;  but  always  he  will  be 
shooting  and  casting  darts,  and  glad  for  to  see 
battles,  and  to  behold  knights,  and  always  day 
and  night  he  desireth  of  me  to  be  made  a  knight." 
The  king  commanded  the  cowherd  to  fetch  all 
his  sons;  they  wrere  all  shapen  much  like  the 
poor  man  ;  but  Tor  was  not  like  none  of  them  in 
shape  and  in  countenance,  for  he  was  much  more 
than  any  of  them.  And  so  Arthur  knighted  him." 
This  simple  tale  is  the  history  of  genius — the 
cowherd's  twelve  sons  were  like  himself,  but  the 
unhappy  genius  in  the  family  who  perplexed  and 
plagued  the  cowherd  and  his  wife  and  his  twelve 
brothers,  was  the  youth  averse  to  labour,  but  ac- 
tive enough  in  performing  knightly  exercises; 
and  dreaming  on  chivalry  amidst  a  herd  of  cows. 


YOUTH  OP  GENIUS.  23 

A  man  of  genius  is  thus  dropt  among  the  peo- 
ple, and  has  first  to  encounter  the  difficulties  of 
ordinary  men  deprived  of  that  feeble  ductility 
which  adapts  itself  to  the  common  destination. 
Parents  are  too  often  the  victims  of  the  decided 
propensity  of  a  son  to  a  Virgil  or  an  Euclid  ;  and 
the  first  step  into  life  of  a  man  of  genius  is  diso- 
bedience and  grief.  Lilly,  pur  famous  astrologer, 
has  described  the  frequent  situation  of  such  a 
youth,  like  the  cowherd's  son  who  would  be  a 
knight.  Lilly  proposed  to  his  father  that  he 
should  try  his  fortune  in  the  metropolis,  where 
he  expected  'that  his  learning  and  his  talents 
would  prove  serviceable  to  him  ;  the  father,  quite 
incapable  of  discovering  the  latent  genius  of  his 
son  in  his  studious  dispositions,  very  willingly 
consented  to  get  rid  of  him,  for,  as  Lilly  proceeds, 
" 1  could  not  work,  drive  the  plough,  or  endure 
any  country  labour ;  my  father'  oft  would  say  I 
was  good  for  nothing" — words  which  the  fathers 
of  so  many  men  of  genius  have  repeated. 

In  reading  the  memoirs  of  a  man  of  genius  we 
often  reprobate  the  domestic  persecutions  of  those 
who  opposed  his  inclinations.  No  poet  but  is 
moved  with  indignation  at  the  recollection  of 
the  Port  Royal  Society  thrice  burning  the  ro- 
mance which  Racine  at  length  got  by  heart ;  no 


24  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

geometrician  but  bitterly  inveighs  against  the 
father  of  Pascal  for  not  suffering  him  to  study 
Euclid,  which  he  at  length  understood  without 
studying.  The  father  of  Petrarch  in  a  babarous 
rage  burnt  the  poetical  library  of  his  son  amidst 
the  shrieks,  the  groans,  and  the  tears  of  the 
youth.  Yet  this  neither  converted  Petrarch  into 
a  sober  lawyer,  nor  deprived  him  of  the  Roman 
laurel.  The  uncle  of  Alfieri  for  more  than 
twenty  years  suppressed  the  poetical  character  of 
this  noble  bard  ;  he  was  a  poet  without  knowing 
to  write  a  verse,  and  Nature,  like  a  hard  creditor, 
exacted  with  redoubled  interest,  all  the  genius 
which  the  uncle  had  so  long  kept  from  her.  Such 
are  the  men  whose  inherent  impulse  no  human 
opposition,  and  even  no  adverse  education,  can 
deter  from  being  great  men. 

Let  us,  however,  be  just  to  the  parents  of  a 
man  of  genius  ;  they  have  another  association 
of  ideas  concerning  him  than  we ;  we  see  a  great 
man,  they  a  disobedient  child ;  we  track  him 
through  his  glory,  they  are  wearied  by  the 
sullen  resistance  of  his  character.  The  career  of 
genius  is  rarely  that  of  fortune  or  happiness; 
and  the  fatber,  who  may  himself  be  not  insensi- 
ble to  glory,  dreads  lest  his  son  be  found  among 
that  obscure  multitude,  that  populace  of  mean 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

artists,  who  must  expire  at  the  barriers  of  medi- 
ocrity. 

The  contemplative  race,  even  in  their  first  steps 
towards  nature,  are  receiving  that  secret  instruc- 
tion which  no  master  can  impart.  The  boy  of 
genius  flies  to  some  favourite  haunt  to  whicl 
his  fancy  has  often  given  a  name  ;  he  populates 
his  solitude ;  he  takes  all  shapes  in  it,  he  finds 
all  places  in  it;  he  converses  silently  with  all 
about  him — he  is  a  hermit,  a  lover,  a  hero.  The 
fragrance  and  blush  of  the  morning;  the  stil 
hush  of  the  evening ;  the  mountain,  the  valley, 
and  the  stream ;  all  nature  opening  to 
he  sits  brooding  over  his  first  dim  images,  in  that 
train  of  thought  we  call  reverie,  with  a  restless- 
ness of  delight,  for  he  is  only  the  being  of  sens 
tion,  and  has  not  yet  learnt  to  think ;  then  comes 
that  tenderness  of  spirit,  that  first  shade  of  thought, 
colouring  every  scene,  and  deepening  every  feel- 
ing ;  this  temperament  has  been  often  mistaken 
for  melancholy.  One,  truly  inspired,  unfolds  the 
secret  story — 

"  Indowed  with  all  that  nature  can  bestow* 
The  child  of  fancy  oft  in  silence  bends 
O'er  the  mixt  treasures  of  his  pregnant  breast 
Withconscious  pride.    From  them  he  oft  resolve* 
To  frame  he  knows  not  what  excelling  thing?, 


26  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

And  win  he  knows  not  what  sublime  reward 
Of  praise  and  wonder" — 

This  delight  in  reverie  has  been  finely  described 
by  Boyle  :  "  When  the  intermission  of  my  stu- 
dies allowed  me  leisure  for  recreation,"  says 
Boyle,  "  I  would  very  often  steal  away  from  all 
company,  and  spend  four  or  five  hours  alone  in 
the  fields  and  think  at  random,  making  my  delight- 
ed imagination  the  busy  scene  where  some  ro- 
mance or  other  was  daily  acted."  This  circum- 
stance alarmed  his  friends,  who  imagined  that  he 
was  overcome  with  melancholy.^ 


*  An  unhappy  young  man  who  recently  forfeited  his  life  to 
the  laws  for  forgery  appears  to  have  given  promises  of  genius. 
— He  had  thrown  himself  for  two  years  into  the  studious  re- 
tirement of  a  foreign  university.  Before  his  execution  he 
sketched  an  imperfect  auto-biography,  and  the  following  pas- 
sage is  descriptive  of  young  genius  : 

"  About  this  time  I  became  uncommonly  reserved,  with- 
drawing by  degrees  from  the  pastimes  of  my  associates,  and 
was  frequently  observed  to  retire  to  some  solitary  place  alone. 
Ruined  castles,  bearing  the  vestiges  of  ancient  broils,  and  the 
impairing  hand  of  time, — cascades  thundering  through  the 
echoing  groves, — rocks  and  precipices, — the  beautiful  as  well 
as  the  sublime  traits  of  nature — formed  a  spacious  field  for 
contemplation  many  a  happy  hour.  From  these  inspiring  ob- 
jects, contemplation  would  lead  me  to  the  great  Author  of 
nature.  Often  have  1  dropped  on  my  knees,  and  poured  out 
the  ecstasies  of  my  soul  to  the  God  who  inspired  them." 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS,  -37 

It  is  remarkable  that  this  love  of  repose  and 
musing  is  retained  throughout  life.  A  man  of 
fine  genius  is  rarely  enamoured  of  common 
amusements  or  of  robust  exercises;  and  he  is 
usually  unadroit  where  dexterity  of  hand  or  eye, 
or  trivial  elegancies,  are  required.  This  charac- 
teristic of  genius  was  discovered  by  Horace  in 
that  Ode  which  school-boys  often  versify.* 
Beattie  has  expressly  told  us  of  his  Minstrel — 

•'*  The  exploit  of  strength,  dexterity,  or  speed 
To  him  nor  vanity,  nor  joy  could  bring." 

Alfieri  said  he  could  never  be  taught  by  a  French 
dancing-master,  whose  Art  made  him  at  once 
shudder  and  laugh.  If  we  reflect  that  as  it  is 
now  practised  it  seems  the  art  of  giving  affec- 
tation to  a  puppet,  and  that  this  puppet  is  a  man 
we  can  enter  into  this  mixed  sensation  of  degra- 
dation and  ridicule.  Horace,  by  his  own  confes- 
sion, was  a  very  awkward  rider;  and  the  poetical 
rider  could  not  always  secure  a  seat  on  his  mule  ; 
Metastasio  humorously  complains  of  his  gun  ;the 
poetical  sportsman  could  only  frighten  the  hares 
and  partridges ;  the  truth  was,  as  an  elder  poet 
sings, 

"    Instead  of  hounds  that  make  the  wooded  hills 
Talk  in  ahunded  voices  to  the  rills, 

*  Hor.  Od.   Lib.  iv.  0. 3. 


2S  *;     YOUTH  OP  GENIUS. 

I  like  the  pleasiug  cadence  of  a  line 
Struck  by  the  concert  of  the  sacred  Nine." 

Browne's  Brit.  Past.  B.  ii.  Song  4, 

And  we  discover  the  true  "  humour"  of  the 
indolent  contemplative  race  in  their  great  repre- 
sentatives Virgil  and  Horace.  When  they  ac- 
companied Mecaenas  into  the  country,  while  the 
minister  amused  himself  at  tennis,  the  two  bards 
reposed  on  a  vernal  bank  amidst  the  freshness  of 
the  shade.  The  younger  Pliny,  who  was  so  per- 
fect a  literary  character,  was  charmed  by  the 
Roman  mode  of  hunting,  or  rather  fowling  by 
nets,  which  admitted  him  to  sit  a  whole  day  with 
bis  tablets  and  stylus,  that,  says  he,  "  should  I  re- 
turn with  empty  nets  my  tablets  may  at  least  be 
full."  Thomson  was  the  hero  of  his  own  Castle 
of  Indolence. 

The  youth  of  genius  will  be  apt  to  retire  from 
the  active  sports  of  his  mates.  Beattie  paints 
himself  in  his  own  Minstrel, 

"  Concourse  and  noise,  and  toil  he  ever  fled, 

Nor  cared  to  mingle  in  the  clamorous  fray 
Of  squabbling  imps;  but  to  the  forest  sped." 

BOSSUET  would  not  join  his  young  companions, 
and  flew  to  his  solitary  task,  while  the  classical 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.     3  29 

boys  avenged  his  flight  by  applying  to  him  from 
Virgil  the  bos  suetus  aratro,  the  ox  daily  toil- 
ing in  the  plough.  The  young  painters,  to  ridi- 
cule the  persevering  labours  of  DOMENICHINO  in 
his  youth,  honoured  him  by  the  same  title  of 
"  the  great  ox ;"  and  Passeri,  in  his  delightful 
biography  of  his  own  contemporary  artists,  has 
happily  expressed  the  still  labours  of  his  conceal- 
ed genius,  sua  taciturna  leniezza,  his  silent  slow- 
ness.  The  learned  HUET  has  given  an  amusing 
detail  of  the  inventive  persecutions  of  his  school- 
mates, to  divert  him  from  his  obstinate  love  of 
study.  "  At  length,"  says  he,  "  in  order  to  indulge 
my  own  taste,  I  would  rise  with  the  sun,  while 
they  were  buried  in  sleep,  and  hide  myself  in  the 
woods  that  I  might  read  and  study  in  quiet,"  but 
they  beat  the  bushes  and  started  in  his  burrow, 
the  future  man  of  erudition.  Sir  WILLIAM  JONES 
was  rarely  a  partaker  in  the  active  sports  of  Har- 
row; it  was  said  of  GRAY  that  he  was  never  a 
boy,  and  the  unhappy  Chatter/ton  and  Burns  were 
remarkably  serious  boys.  MILTON  has  preserved 
for  us,  in  solemn  numbers,  his  school-life— 

11  When  I  was  yet  a  child,  no  childish  play 
To  me  was  pleasing  ;  all  my  mind  was  set 
Serious  to  learn  and  know,  and  thericg  to  do 
What  might  be  public  good,  myself  I  thought 
c  2 


30  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

Born  to  that  end,  born  to  promote  all  truth, 
All  righteous  things — 

Par.  Reg, 

If  the  youth  of  genius  is  apt  to  retire  from  the 
ordinary  sports  of  his  mates,  he  often  substitutes 
others,  the  reflections  of  those  favourite  studies 
which  are  haunting  his  young  imagination  ;  the 
amusements  of  such  an  idler  have  often  been 
fanciful.  ARIOSTO,  while  yet  a  school-boy, 
composed  a  sort  of  tragedy  from  the  story  of 
Pyramus  and  Thisbe,  and  had  it  represented 
by  his  brothers  and  sisters.  POPE  seems  to 
have  indicated  his  passion  for  Homer  in  those 
rough  scenes  which  he  drew  up  from  Ogilby's 
version ;  and  when  Sir  WILLIAM  JONES  at  Har- 
row divided  the  fields  according  to  a  map  of 
Greece,  and  portioned  out  to  each  school-fellow 
a  dominion,  and  further,  when  wanting  a  copy  of 
the  Tempest  to  act  from,  he  supplied  it  from  his 
memory,  we  must  confess  that  the  boy  JONES  was 
reflecting  in  his  amusements  the  cast  of  mind  he 
displayed  in  his  after-life,  and  that  felicity  of 
memory  and  taste  so  prevalent  in  his  literary 
character.  FLORIAN'S  earliest  years  were  passed 
in  shooting  birds  all  day  and  reading  every  even- 
ing an  old  translation  of  the  Iliad  ;  whenever  he 
got  a  bird  remarkable  for  its  size  or  its  plumage, 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  31 

he  personified  it  by  one  of  the  names  of  his  he- 
roes, and  raising  a  funeral  pyre  consumed  the 
body  ;  collecting  the  ashes  in  an  urn,  he  present- 
ed them  to  his  grandfather,  with  a  narrative  of 
his  Patroclus  or  Sarpedon.  We  seem  here  to 
detect,  reflected  in  his  boyish  sports,  the  pleasing 
genius  of  the  author  of  Numa  Pompilius,  Gon~ 
salvo  of  Cordova  and  William  Tell. 

It  is  perhaps  a  criterion  of  talent  when  a  youth 
is  distinguished  by  his  equals;  at  that  moment  of 
life  with  no  flattery  on  the  one  side,  and  no  arti- 
fice on  the  other,  all  emotion  and  no  reflection, 
the  boy  who  has  obtained  a  predominance  has 
acquired  this  merely  by  native  powers.  The 
boyhood  of  NELSON  was  characterized  by  events 
congenial  to  those  of  his  after-days;  and  his 
father  understood  his  character  when  he  declared 
that  "  in  whatever  station  he  might  be  placed, 
he  would  climb,  if  possible,  to  the  top  of  the 
tree."  Some  puerile  anecdotes  which  Frank- 
lin remembered  of  himself,  in  association  with 
his  after-life,  betray  the  invention,  and  the 
firm  intrepidity,  of  his  character ;  and  even  per- 
haps the  carelessness  of  the  means  to  obtain  his 
purpose.  In  boyhood  he  was  a  sort  of  adven- 
turer; and  since  his  father  would  not  consent 
to  a  sea-life,  he  made  the  river  near  him  repre- 


32  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

sent  the  ocean ;  he  lived  on  the  water,  and  was 
the  daring  Columbus  of  a  school-boy's  boat. 
A  part  where  he  and  his  mates  stood  to  angle, 
in  time  became  a  quagmire.  In  the  course 
of  one  day  the  infant  projector  thought  of  a 
wharf  for  them  to  stand  on,  and  raised  with  a 
heap  of  stones  deposited  there  for  the  building 
of  a  house.  But  he  preferred  his  wharf  to 
another's  house;  his  contrivances  to  aid  his 
puny  labourers,  with  his  resolution  not  to  quit 
the  great  work  till  it  was  effected,  seem  to 
strike  out  to  us  the  decision  and  invention  of 
his  future  character.  But  the  qualities  which 
attract  the  companions  of  a  school-boy  may 
not  be  those  which  are  essential  to  fine  genius. 
The  captain  or  leader  of  his  school-mates  has 
a  claim  on  our  attention,  but  it  is  the  sequestered 
boy  who  may  chance  to  be  the  artist,  or  the 
literary  character. 

Is  there  then  a  period  in  youth  which  yields 
decisive  marks  ol  the  character  of  genius?  The 
natures  of  men  are  as  various  as  their  fortunes. 
Some,  like  diamonds,  must  wait  to  receive  their 
splendour  from  the  slow  touches  of  the  polisher, 
while  others,  resembling  pearls,  appear  at  once 
born  with  their  beautiful  lustre. 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  33 

Among  the  inauspicious  circumstances  is  the 
feebleness  of  the  first  attempts  ;  and  we  must  not 
decide  on  the  talents  of  a  young  man  by  his  first 
works.  Dryden  and  Swift  might  have  been  de- 
terred from  authorship,  had  their  earliest  pieces 
decided  their  fate.  Racine's  earliest  composition, 
which  we  know  of  by  some  fragments  his  son 
has  preserved,  to  show  their  remarkable  contrast 
with  his  writings,  abound  with  those  points  and 
conceits  which  afterwards  he  abhorred ;  the 
tender  author  of  Andromache  could  not  have 
been  discovered  while  exhausting  himself  in  his 
wanderings  from  nature,  in  running  after  con- 
ceits as  absurd  and  surprizing  as  the  worst  parts 
of  Cowley.  Gibbon  betrayed  none  of  the  force 
and  magnitude  of  his  powers  in  his  "  Essay  on 
Literature,"  or  his  attempted  History  of  Switzer- 
land. Johnson's  cadenced  prose  is  not  recog- 
nizable in  the  humble  simplicity  of  his  earliest 
years.  Many  authors  have  begun  unsuccessfully 
the  walk  they  afterwards  excelled  in.  Raphael, 
when  he  first  drew  his  meagre  forms  under  Peru- 
gino,  had  not  yet  conceived  one  line  of  that  ideal 
beauty,  which  one  day  he  of  all  men  could  alone 
execute. 

Even  the  manhood  of  genius  may  pass  by  un- 
observed by  his  companions,  and  may,  like  -/Eneas, 


34  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

be  hidden  in  a  cloud  amidst  his  associates.  The 
celebrated  Fabius  Maximus  in  his  boyhood  was 
called  in  derision  "  the  little  sheep,"  from  the 
meekness  and  gravity  of  his  disposition.  His  se- 
dateness  and  taciturnity,  his  indifference  to  juve- 
nile amusements,  his  slowness  and  difficulty  in 
learning,  and  his  ready  submission  to  his  equals, 
induced  them  to  consider  him  as  one  irrecover- 
ably stupid.  That  greatness  of  mind,  unalterable 
courage,  and  invincible  character  Fabius  after- 
wards displayed,  they  then  imagined  had  lain  con- 
cealed in  the  apparent  contrary  qualities.  The 
boy  of  genius  may  indeed  seem  slow  and  dull 
even  to  the  phlegmatic,  for  thoughtful  and  ob- 
serving dispositions  conceal  themselves  in  timor- 
ous silent  characters,  who  have  not  yet  learnt 
their  strength  ;  nor  can  that  assiduous  love,  which 
cannot  tear  itself  away  from  the  secret  instruction 
it  is  perpetually  imbibing,  be  easily  distinguished 
from  that  pertinacity  which  goes  on  with  the  mere 
plodder.  We  often  hear  from  the  early  compan- 
ions of  a  man  of  genius  that  at  school,  he  had  ap- 
peared heavy  and  unpromising.  Rousseau  ima- 
gined that  the  childhood  of  some  men  is  accom- 
panied by  that  seeming  and  deceitful  dullness, 
which  is  the  sign  of  a  profound  genius ;  and 
Roger  Ascham  has  placed  among  "  the  best  na- 
tures for  learning,  the  sad-natured  and  hard-wit- 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  35 

ted  child,"  that  is,  the  thoughtful  or  the  melan- 
cholic, and  the  slow.  Domenichino  was  at  first 
heavy  and  unpromising,  and  Passed  expresses  his 
surprize  at  the  accounts  he  received  of  the  early 
life  of  this  great  artist.  "  It  is  difficult  to  be- 
lieve," he  says,  "  what  many  assert,  that  from  the 
beginning  this  great  painter  had  a  ruggedness 
about  him,  which  entirely  incapacitated  him  from 
learning  his  profession,  and  they  have  heard  from 
himself  that  he  quite  despaired  of  success.  Yet 
I  cannot  comprehend  how  such  vivacious  talents, 
with  a  mind  so  finely  organised,  and  accompanied 
with  such  favourable  dispositions  for  the  art, 
would  show  such  signs  of  utter  incapacity ;  I  ra- 
ther think  that  it  is  a  mistake  in  the  proper  know- 
ledge of  genius,  which  some  imagine  indicates 
itself  most  decisively  by  its  sudden  vehemence, 
showing  itself  like  lightning,  and  like  lightning 
passing  away."  A  parallel  case  we  find  in  Gold- 
smith, who  passed  through  an  unpromising  youth  ; 
he  declared  that  he  was  never  attached  to  the 
belles  lettres  till  he  was  thirty,  that  poetry  had  no 
peculiar  charms  for  him  till  that  age,  and  indeed 
to  his  latest  hour  he  was  surprizing  his  friends  by 
productions  which  they  had  imagined  he  was  in- 
capable of  composing.  Hume  was  considered, 
for  his  sobriety  and  assiduity,  as  competent  to  be- 
come a  steady  merchant  ;  of  Johnson  it  was  said 


36  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

that  he  would  never  offend  in  conversation,  as  of 
Boileau  that  he  had  no  great  understanding,  but 
would  speak  ill  of  no  one.  Farquhar  at  college 
was  a  heavy  companion,  and  afterwards,  com- 
bined, with  great  knowledge  of  the  world,  a  light 
airy  talent.  Even  a  discerning  parent  or  master 
has  entirely  failed  to  develope  the  genius  of  the 
youth,  who  has  afterwards  ranked  among  eminent 
men ;  and  we  ought  as  little  to  infer  from  early 
unfavourable  appearances  as  from  inequality  of 
talent.  The  great  Isaac  Barrow's  father  used  to 
say,  that  if  it  pleased  God  to  take  from  him  any 
of  his  children  he  hoped  it  might  be  Isaac,  as  the 
least  promising ;  and  during  the  three  years  Bar- 
row passed  at  the  Charter-house,  he  was  remark- 
able only  for  the  utter  negligence  of  his  studies 
and  his  person.  The  mother  of  Sheridan,  her- 
self a  literary  female,  pronounced  early,  that  he 
was  the  dullest  and  most  hopeless  of  her  sons. 
Bodrner,  at  the  head  of  the  literary  class  in 
Switzerland,  who  had  so  frequently  discovered 
and  animated  the  literary  youths  of  his  country, 
rould  never  detect  the  latent  genius  of  Gesner  ; 
after  a  repeated  examination  of  the  young  man, 
he  put  his  parents  in  despair  with  the  hopeless 
award  that  a  mind  of  so  ordinary  a  cast  must  con- 
fine itself  to  mere  writing  and  aeeompts. 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  37 

Thus  it  happens  that  the  first  years  of  life  do 
not  always  include  those  of  genius,  and  the  edu- 
cation of  the  youth  may  not  be  the  education  of 
his  genius.  In  all  these  cases  nature  had  dropt 
the  seeds  in  the  soil,  but  even  a  happy  disposition 
must  be  concealed  amidst  adverse  circumstances. 
It  has  happened  to  some  men  of  genius  during  a 
long  period  of  their  lives,  that  an  unsettled  im-  . 
pulse,  without  having  discovered  the  object  of  its 
aptitude,  a  thirst  and  fever  in  the  temperament  of 
too  sentient  a  being  which  cannot  find  the  occu- 
pation to  which  it  can  only  attach  itself,  has  sunk 
into  a  melancholy  and  querulous  spirit,  weary 
with  the  burthen  of  existence  ;  but  the  instant  the 
latent  talent  had  declared  itself,  his  first  work,  the 
eager  offspring  of  desire  and  love,  has  astonished 
the  world  at  once  with  the  birth  and  the  maturity 
of  genius. 

Abundant  facts  exhibit  genius  unequivocally 
discovering  itself  in  the  juvenile  age,  connecting 
these  facts  with  the  subsequent  life — and  in  ge- 
neral, perhaps  a  master-mind  exhibits  precocity. 
"  Whatever  a  young  man  at  first  applies  himself 
to,  is  commonly  his  delight  afterwards."  This 
remark  was  made  by  Hartley,  who  has  related  an 
anecdote  of  the  infancy  of  his  genius,  which  in- 
dicated the  man.  He  declared  to  his  daughter 


gg  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

that  the  intention  of  writing  a  book  upon  the  na- 
ture of  man  was  conceived  in  his  mind  when  he 
was  a  very  little  boy — when  swinging  backwards 
and  forwards  upon  a  gate,  not  more  than  nine 
or  ten  years  old ;  he  was  then  meditating  upon 
the  nature  of  his  own  mind,  how  man  was  made, 
and  for  what  future  end — such  was  the  true  ori- 
gin, in  a  boy  of  ten  years  old,  of  his  celebrated 
book  on  the  "  frame,  the  duty  and  the  expectation 
of  man."  The  constitutional  propensity  has  de- 
clared itself  in  painters  and  poets,  who  were  such 
before  they  understood  the  nature  of  colours  and 
the  arts  of  verse.  The  vehement  passion  of 
Peiresc  for  knowledge,  according  to  accounts 
Gassendi  had  received  from  old  men  who  had 
known  him  a  child,  broke  out  as  soon  as  he  had 
been  taught  his  alphabet ;  his  delight  was  to  be 
handling  books  and  papers,  and  his  perpetual  in- 
quiries after  their  contents  obliged  them  to  invent 
something  to  quiet  the  child's  insatiable  curiosity, 
who  was  offended  if  told  he  had  not  the  capacity 
to  understand  them.  He  did  not  study  like  ordi- 
nary scholars,  and  would  read  neither  Justin  nor 
Ovid  without  a  perpetual  consultation  of  other 
authors,  such  was  his  early  love  of  research  !  At 
ten  years  of  age  his  taste  for  the  studies  of  anti- 
quity was  kindled  at  the  sight  of  some  ancient 
.soins  dug  up  in  his  neighbourhood ;  and  then  that 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  39 

passion  for  knowledge  "  began  to  burn  like  fire  in 
a  forest,"  as  Gassendi  most  happily  describes  the 
fervour  and  the  amplitude  of  his  mind.  We  have 
Boccaccio's  own  words  for  a  proof  of  his  early 
natural  tendency  to  tale- writing,  in  a  passage  of 
his  genealogy  of  the  Gods  :  "  Before  seven  years 
of  age,  when  as  yet  I  had  met  with  no  stories, 
was  without  a  master  and  hardly  knew  my  letters, 
I  had  a  natural  Hent  for  fiction,  and  produced 
some  little  tales."  Thus  the  Decamerone  was 
appearing  much  earlier  than  we  suppose.  So 
Ariosto,  as  soon  as  he  obtained  some  knowledge 
of  languages,  delighted  himself  in  translating 
French  and  Spanish  romances ;  was  he  not  sow- 
ing plentifully  the  seeds  of  his  Orlando  Furioso  ? 
Lope  de  Vega  declares  that  he  was  a  poet  from 
the  cradle,  beginning  to  make  verses  before  he 
could  write  them,  for  he  bribed  his  school-mates 
with  a  morsel  of  his  breakfast  to  write  down  the 
lines  he  composed  in  the  early  morning.  Des- 
cartes, while  yet  a  boy,  was  so  marked  out  by 
habits  of  deep  meditation,  that  he  went  among 
his  companions  by  the  title  of  the  philosopher, 
always  questioning,  and  settling  cause  and  effect. 
It  happened  that  he  was  twenty-five  years  of  age 
before  he  left  the  army,  but  the  propensity  for 
meditation  had  been  early  formed,  and  the  noble 
enterprize  of  reforming  philosophy  never  ceased 


40  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

to  inspire  his  solitary  thoughts.  Descartes  was  a 
man  born  only  for  meditation — and  he  has  himself 
given  a  very  interesting  account  of  the  pursuits 
which  occupied  his  youth,  and  of  the  progress  of 
his  genius ;  of  that  secret  struggle  he  so  long  held 
with  himself,  wandering  in  concealment  over  the 
world,  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and,  as  he 
says  of  himself,  like  the  statuary,  labouring  to 
draw  out  a  Minerva  from  the  marble  block.  Mi- 
chael Angelo,  as  yet  a  child,  wherever  he  went, 
busied  himself  in  drawing ;  and  when  his  noble 
parents,  hurt  that  a  man  or  genius  was  disturbing 
the  line  of  their  ancestry,  forced  him  to  relinquish 
the  pencil,  the  infant  artist  flew  to  the  chissel  : 
art  was  in  his  soul  and  his  hands.  Velasquez,  the 
Spanish  painter,  at  his  school-tasks,  filled  them 
with  sketches  and  drawings,  and  as  some  write 
their  names  on  their  books,  his  were  known  by 
the  specimens  of  his  genius.  The  painter  Lan- 
franco  was  originally  the  page  of  a  marquis,  who 
observing  that  he  was  perpetually  scrawling  figures 
on  cards,  or  with  charcoal  on  the  walls,  asked  the 
boy  whether  he  would  apply  to  the  art  he  seemed 
to  love  ?  The  boy  trembled,  fearing  to  have  in- 
curred his  master's  anger ;  but  when  encouraged 
to  decide,  he  did  not  hesitate  :  placed  under  one 
of  the  Carraccios,  his  rapid  progress  in  the  art 
testified  how  much  Lanfranco  had  suffered  by  sup- 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS,  41 

pressing  his  natural  aptitude.  When  we  find  the 
boy  Nanteuil,  his  parents  being  averse  to  their 
son's  practising  drawing,  hiding  himself  in  a  tree 
to  pursue  the  delightful  exercise  of  his  pencil ; 
that  Handel,  intended  for  a  doctor  of  the  civil 
laws,  and  whom  no  parental  discouragement  could 
deprive  of  his  enthusiasm  for  the  musical  science, 
for  ever  touching  harpsichords,  and  having  se- 
cretly conveyed  a  musical  instrument  to  a  retired 
apartment,  sitting  through  the  night  awakening 
his  harmonious  spirit ;  and  when  we  view  Fergu- 
son, the  child  of  a  peasant,  acquiring  the  art  of 
reading  without  any  one  suspecting  it,  by  listening 
to  his  father  teaching  his  brother ;  making  a 
wooden  watch  without  the  slightest  knowledge  of 
mechanism,  and  while  a  shepherd,  like  an  ancient 
Chaldean,  studying  the  phenomena  of  the  hea- 
vens and  making  a  celestial  globe,  as  he  had 
made  a  wooden  watch,  can  we  hesitate  to  believe 
that  in  such  minds,  there  was  a  resistless  and  mys- 
terious propensity,  growing  up  with  the  tempera- 
ment of  these  artists  ?  Ferguson  was  a  shepherd- 
lad  on  a  plain,  placed  entirely  out  of  the  chance 
of  imitation  ;  or  of  the  influence  of  casual  excite- 
ment ;  or  any  other  of  those  sources  of  genius  so 
frequently  assigned  for  its  production.  The  case 
of  Opie  is  similar. 


42  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

Yet  these  cases  are  not  more  striking  than  one 
related  of  the  AJbbg  La  Caille,  who  ranked  among 
the  first  astronomers  of  the  age.  La  Caille  was 
the  son  of  the  parish  clerk  of  a  village  ;  at  the 
age  of  ten  years  his  father  sent  him  every  even- 
ing to  ring  the  church  bell,  but  the  boy  always 
returned  home  late.  His  father  was  angry  and 
beat  him,  and  still  the  boy  returned  an  hour  after 
he  had  rung  the  bell.  The  father,  suspecting 
something  mysterious  in  his  conduct,  one  evening 
watched  him.  He  saw  his  son  ascend  the  steeple, 
ring  the  bell  as  usual,  and  remain  there  during  an 
hour.  When  the  unlucky  boy  descended,  he 
trembled  like  one  caught  in  the  fact,  and  on  his 
knees  confessed  that  the  pleasure  he  took  in 
watching  the  stars  from  the  steeple  was  the  real 
cause  of  detaining  him  from  home.  As  the  fa- 
ther was  not  born  to  be  an  astronomer,  like  the 
son,  he  flogged  the  boy  severely.  The  youth 
was  found  weeping  in  the  streets,  by  a  man  of 
science,  who.  when  he  discovered  in  a  boy  of  ten 
years  of  age,  a  passion  for  contemplating  the 
stars  at  night,  and  who  had  discovered  an  obser- 
vatory in  a  steeple,  in  spite  of  such  ill-treatment, 
he  decided  that  the  seal  of  nature  had  impressed 
itself  on  the  genius  of  that  boy. — Relieving  the 
parent  from  the  son  and  the  son  from  the  parent, 
Ue  assisted  the  young  La  Caille  in  his  passionate 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  43 

pursuit,  and  the  event  completely  justified  the 
prediction.  Let  others  tell  us  why  children  feel 
a  predisposition  for  the  studies  of  astronomy,  or 
natural  history,  or  any  similar  pursuit.  We 
know  that  youths  have  found  themselves  in  par- 
allel situations  with  Ferguson  and  La  Caille,  with- 
out experiencing  their  energies. 

The  case  of  Clairon,  the  great  French  tragic 
actress,  deserves  attention :  she  seems  to  have 
been  an  actress  before  she  saw  a  theatre.  This 
female,  destined  to  be  a  sublime  actress,  was  of 
the  lowest  extraction ;  the  daughter  of  a  violent 
and  illiterate  woman,  who  with  blows  and  me- 
naces was  driving  about  the  child  all  day  to 
manual  labour.  "  I  know  not,"  says  Clairon, 
"  whence  I  derived  my  disgust,  but  I  could  not 
bear  the  idea  to  be  a  mere  workman,  or  to 
remain  inactive  in  a  corner."  In  her  eleventh 
year,  being  locked  up  in  a  room,  as  a  punish- 
ment, with  the  windows  fastened,  she  climbed 
upon  a  chair  to  look  about  her.  A  new  object  in- 
stantly absorbed  her  attention ;  in  the  house  oppo- 
site she  observed  a  celebrated  actress  amidst  her 
family,  her  daughter  was  performing  her  dancing 
lesson;  the  girl  Clairon,  the  future  Melpomene, 
was  struck  by  the  influence  of  this  graceful  and 
affectionate  scene.  "  All  my  little  being  collect- 


44  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

ed  itself  into  my  eyes ;  I  lost  not  a  single  motion ; 
as  soon  as  the  lesson  ended  all  the  family  applaud- 
ed and  the  mother  embraced  the  daughter. — 
That  difference  of  her  fate  and  mine  filled  me 
with  profound  grief,  my  tears  hindered  me  from 
seeing  any  longer,  and  when  the  palpitations  of 
my  heart  allowed  me  to  reascend  the  chair,  all 
had  disappeared."  This  was  a  discovery  ;  from 
that  moment  she  knew  no  rest;  she  rejoiced 
when  she  could  get  her  mother  to  confine  her 
in  that  room.  The  happy  girl  was  a  divinity  to 
the  unhappy  one,  whose  susceptible  genius  imita- 
ted her  in  every  gesture  and  motion ;  and  Cla- 
iron  soon  showed  the  effect  of  her  ardent  stu- 
dies, for  she  betrayed  all  the  graces  she  had  taught 
herself,  in  the  common  intercourse  of  life;  she 
charmed  her  friends  and  even  softened  her  bar- 
barous mother;  in  a  word,  she  was  an  actress 
without  knowing  what  an  actress  was. 

In  this  case  of  the  youth  of  genius,  are  we  to 
conclude  that  the  accidental  view  of  a  young 
actress  practising  her  studies,  imparted  the  char- 
acter of  the  great  tragic  actress  Clairon  ?  Could  a 
mere  chance  occurrence  have  given  birth  to  those 
faculties  which  produced  a  sublime  tragedian?  In 
all  arts  there  are  talents  which  may  be  acquired 
by  imitation,  and  reflection;  and  thus  far  may 


YOUTH  OF  GENIUS.  45 

genius  be  educated,  but  there  are  others  which 
are  entirely  the  result  of  native  sensibility,  which 
often  secretly  torment  the  possessor,  and  which 
may  even  be  lost  from  the  want  of  development ; 
a  state  of  languor  from  which  many  have  not  re- 
covered. Clairon,  before  she  saw  the  young  ac- 
tress, and  having  yet  no  conception  of  a  theatre, 
never  having  entered  one,  had  in  her  soul  that 
latent  faculty  which  creates  a  genius  of  her  cast. 
"  Had  I  not  felt  like  Dido,"  she  once  exclaimed, 
"  I  could  not  have  thus  personified  her  !" 

Some  of  these  facts,  we  conceive,  afford  deci- 
sive evidence  of  that  instinct  in  genius,  that 
constitutional  propensity  in  the  mind,  sometimes 
called  organization,  which  has  inflamed  such  a 
war  of  words  by  its  equivocal  term  and  the 
ambiguity  of  its  nature ;  it  exists  independent  of 
education,  and  where  it  is  wanting,  education  can 
never  confer  it.  Of  its  mysterious  influence  we 
may  be  ignorant;  the  effect  s  mor  apparent 
than  the  cause.  It  is,  however,  always  working 
in  the  character  of  the  chosen  mind.  In  the  his- 
tory of  genius,  there  #re  unquestionably  many 
secondary  causes  of  considerable  influence  in 
developing  or  even  crushing  the  germ— these 
have  been  of  late  often  detected,  and  sometimes 


46  YOUTH  OF  GENIUS. 

carried  even  to  a  ridiculous  extreme ;  but  among 
them  none  seem  more  remarkable  than  the  first 
studies  and  the  first  habits. 


(47  ) 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 


THE  first  studies  form  an  epoch  in  the  history 
of  genius,  and  unquestionably  have  sensibly  in- 
fluenced its  productions.  Often  have  the  first 
impressions  stamped  a  character  on  the  mind 
adapted  to  receive  one,  as  often  the  first  step 
into  life  has  determined  its  walk.  To  our- 
selves, this  is  a  distant  period  lost  in  the  horizon 
of  our  own  recollection,  and  so  unobserved  by 
others,  that  it  passes  away  in  neglect. 

Many  of  those  peculiarities  of  men  of  genius 
which  are  not  fortunate,  and  some  which  have 
hardened  the  character  in  its  mould,  may  be 
traced  to  this  period.  Physicians  tell  us  that 
there  is  a  certain  point  in  youth  at  which  the 
constitution  is  formed,  and  on  which  the  sanity 
of  life  revolves ;  the  character  of  genius  expe- 
riences a  similar  dangerous  period.  Early  bad 


48  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

tastes,  early  particular  habits,  early  defective 
instructions,  all  the  egotistical  pride  of  an  un- 
tamed intellect,  are  those  evil  spirits  which  will 
dog  genius,  to  its  grave.  An  early  attachment 
to  the  works  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne  produced 
in  Johnson  an  excessive  admiration  of  that  lati- 
nised English,  which  violated  the  native  graces 
of  the  language.  The  first  studies  of  Rem- 
brandt affected  his  after-labours ;  that  pecu- 
liarity of  shadow  which  marks  all  his  pictures 
originated  in  the  circumstance  of  his  father's 
mill  receiving  light  from  an  aperture  at  the  top, 
which  habituated  that  artist  afterwards  to  view 
all  objects  as  if  seen  in  that  magical  light.  When 
Pope  was  a  child  he  found  in  his  mother's  closet 
a  small  library  of  mystical  devotion;  but  it  was 
not  suspected  till  the  fact  was  discovered,  that 
the  effusions  of  love  and  religion  poured  forth 
in  his  Eloisa  were  derived  from  the  seraphic 
raptures  of  those  erotic  mystics,  who  to  the 
last  retained  a  place  in  his  library  among  the 
classical  bards  of  antiquity.  The  accidental  pe- 
rusal of  Quintus  Curtius  first  made  Boyle  "in 
love  with  other  than  pedantic  books,  and  con- 
jured up  in  him,"  as  he  expresses  it,  "  an  un- 
satisfied appetite  of  knowledge ;  so  that  he 
thought  he  owed  more  to  Quintus  Gurtius  than 
did  Alexander."  From  the  perusal  of  Rycaut's 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES.  49 

folio  of  Turkish  history  in  childhood,  the  noble 
and  impassioned  bard  of  our  times  retained 
those  indelible  impressions,  which  gave  life  and 
motion  to  the  "  Giaour,"  the  "  Corsair,"  and 
"  Alp."  A  voyage  to  the  country  produced  the 
scenery.  Rycaut  only  communicated  the  im- 
pulse to  a  mind  susceptible  of  the  poetical  char- 
acter ;  and  without  this  Turkish  history  we  should 
still  have  had  our  poet. 

The  influence  of  first  studies,  in  the  formation 
of  the  character  of  genius,  is  a  moral  pheno- 
menon, which  has  not  sufficiently  attracted  our 
notice.  Dr.  Franklin  acquaints  us  that  when 
young  and  wanting  books,  he  accidentally  found 
De  Foe's  "Essay  on  Projects,"  from  which 
work  impressions  were  derived  which  afterwards 
influenced  some  of  the  principal  events  of  his 
life.  Rousseau,  in  early  youth,  full  of  his 
Plutarch,  while  he  was  also  devouring  the  trash 
of  romances,  could  only  conceive  human  nature 
in  the  colossal  forms,  or  be  affected  by  the  infirm 
sensibility,  of  an  imagination  mastering  all  his 
faculties ;  thinking  like  a  Roman,  and  feeling  like 
a  Sybarite.  The  same  circumstance  happened 
to  Catharine  Macauley,  who  herself  has  told  us 
how  she  owed  the  bent  of  her  character  to  the 
early  reading  of  the  Roman  historians:  but 


50  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

combining  Roman  admiration  with  English  fac- 
tion, she  violated  truth  in  her  English  charac- 
ters, and  exaggerated  romance  in  the  Roman. 
But  the  permanent  effect  of  a  solitary  bias  in 
the  youth  of  genius,  impelling  the  whole  current 
of  his  after-life,  is  strikingly  displayed  in  the 
remarkable  character  of  Archdeacon  Blackburne, 
the  author  of  the  famous  "  Confessional,"  and 
the  curious  "  Memoirs  of  Hollis,"  written  with 
such  a  republican  fierceness. 

I  had  long  considered  the  character  of  our 
archdeacon  as  a  lusus  politico  et  theologico. 
Having  subscribed  to  the  Articles  and  enjoying 
the  archdeaconry,  he  was  writing  against  sub- 
scription and  the  whole  hierarchy,  with  a  spirit 
so  irascible  and  caustic,  as  if,  like  Prynne  and 
Bastwick,  the  archdeacon  had  already  lost  both 
his  ears ;  while  his  antipathy  to  monarchy  might 
have  done  honour  to  a  Roundhead  of  the  Rota 
Club.  The  secret  of  these  volcanic  explosions 
was  only  revealed  in  a  letter  accidentally  pre- 
served. In  the  youth  of  our  spirited  archdeacon, 
when  fox-hunting  was  his  deepest  study,  it  hap- 
pened at  the  house  of  a  relation,  that  on  some 
rainy  day,  among  other  garret  lumber,  he  fell 
jon  some  worm  eaten  volumes  which  had  once 
been  the  careful  collections  of  his  greatgrand- 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES.  51 

father,  an  Oliverian  justice.  "  These,"  says  he, 
"I  conveyed  to  my  lodging-room,  and  there 
became  acquainted  with  the  manners  and  prin- 
ciples of  many  excellent  old  puritans,  and  then 
laid  the  foundation  of  my  own."  Thus  is  the 
enigma  solved!  Archdeacon  Blackburne,  in  his 
seclusion  in  Yorkshire  amidst  the  Oliverian 
justice's  library,  shows  that  we  are  in  want  of 
a  Cervantes,  but  not  of  a  Quixote,  and  York- 
shire might  yet  be  as  renowned  a  county  as 
La  Mancha  ;  for  political  romances,  it  is  presum- 
ed, may  be  as  fertile  of  ridicule  as  any  of  the 
folios  of  chivalry. 

Such  is  the  influence  through  life  of  those  first 
unobserved  impressions  on  the  character  of  geni- 
us, which  every  author  has  not  recorded. 

Education,  however  indispensible  in  a  culti- 
vated age,  produces  nothing  on  the  side  of  geni- 
us, and  where  education  ends  often  genius  begins. 
Gray  was  asked  if  he  recollected  when  he  first 
felt  the  strong  predilection  to  poetry  ;  he  replied, 
that  "  he  believed  it  was  when  he  began  to  read 
Virgil  for  his  own  amusement,  and  not  in  school 
hours  as  a  task."  Such  is  the  force  of  self-edu- 
cation in  genius,  that  the  celebrated  physiologist, 
John  Hunter,  who  was  entirely  self-educated, 


$2  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

evinced  such  penetration  in  his  anatomical  dis- 
coveries, that  his  sensible  biographer  observes, — 
"  he  has  brought  into  notice  passages  from  writers 
he  was  unable  to  read,  and  which  had  been  over- 
looked by  profound  scholars."* 

That  the  education  of  genius  must  be  its  own 
work,  we  may  appeal  to  every  one  of  the  family  ; 
it  is  not  always  fortunate,  for  many  die  amidst 
a  waste  of  talents  and  the  wrecks  of  their  mind. 

Many  a  soul  sublime 
Has  felt  the  influence  of  malignant  star. 

Seattle. 

An  unfavourable  position  in  society  is  an  usual 
obstruction  in  the  course  of  this  self-education  ; 
and  a  man  of  genius,  through  half  his  life,  has 
held  a  contest  with  a  bad,  or  with  no  education. 
There  is  a  race  of  the  late-taught,  who,  with  a 
capacity  of  leading  in  the  first  rank,  are  mortified 
to  discover  themselves  only  on  a  level  with  their 
contemporaries.  Winkelman,  who  passed  his 
youth  in  obscure  misery,  as  a  village  schoolmaster, 
paints  feelings  which  strikingly  contrast  with  his 

*  Life  of  John  Hunter,  by  Dr.  Adams,  p.  59,  where  the  case 
is  curiously  illustrated. 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES,  53 

avocations,  "  I  formerly  filled  the  office  of  a 
schoolmaster  with  the  greatest  punctuality,  and  I 
taught  the  A,  B,  C,  to  children  with  filthy  heads; 
at  the  moment,  I  was  aspiring  after  the  knowledge 
of  the  beautiful,  and  meditating,  low  to  myself, 
on  the  similes  of  Homer ;  then  I  said  to  my- 
self, as  I  still  say,  c  Peace,  my  soul,  thy  strength 
shall  surmount  thy  cares."3  The  obstructions 
of  so  unhappy  a  self-education  essentially  inju- 
red his  ardent  genius  ;  and  his  secret  sorrow  was 
long,  at  this  want  of  early  patronage  and  these  dis- 
cordant habits  of  life.  "  I  am  unfortunately  one  of 
those  whom  the  Greeks  named  aw/^*^'«;  sero 
sapientes,  the  late-learned,  for  I  have  appeared 
too  late  in  the  world  and  in  Italy.  To  have  done 
something,  it  was  necessary  that  I  should 
have  had  an  education  analogous  to  my  pur- 
suits, and  this  at  your  age."  This  class  of  the 
late-learned,  which  Winkelman  notices,  is  a  useful 
distinction  ;  it  is  so  with  a  sister-art :  one  of  the 
greatest  musicians  of  our  country  assures  me, 
that  the  ear  is  as  latent  with  many ;  there  are 
the  late-learned  even  in  the  musical  world.  Su- 
danis declared  he  was  both  "  self-taught  and  late- 
taught." 

The  self-educated  are  marked  by  strong  pecu- 
liarities.   If  their  minds  are  rich  in  acquisition^ 
E  2 


54  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

they  often  want  taste,  and  the  art  of  communica- 
tion ;  their  knowledge,  like  corn  heaped  in  a 
granary,  for  want  of  ventilation  and  stirring,  per- 
ishes in  its  own  masses.  They  may  abound  with 
talent  in  all  shapes,  but  rarely  in  its  place,  and 
they  have  to  dread  a  plethora  of  genius,  and  a 
delirium  of  wit.  They  sometimes  improve  amaz- 
ingly ;  their  source,  turbid  and  obscure,  works  it- 
self clear  at  last,  and  the  stream  runs  and  even 
sparkles.  These  men  at  first  were  pushed  on  by 
their  native  energy ;  at  length,  they  obtain  the 
secret  to  conduct  their  genius,  which  before  had 
conducted  them.  Sometimes  the  greater  portion 
of  their  lives  is  passed  before  they  can  throw 
themselves  out  of  that  world  of  mediocrity  to 
which  they  had  been  confined ;  their  first  work 
has  not  announced  genius,  ?nd  their  last  is  stamp- 
ed with  it.  Men  are  long  judged  by  their  first 
work :  it  takes  a  long  while  after  they  have  sur- 
passed themselves  before  it  is  discovered.  This 
race  of  the  self-educated  are  apt  to  consider  some 
of  their  own  insulated  feelings  those  of  all ;  their 
prejudices  are  often  invincible,  and  their  tastes 
unsure  and  capricious  ;  glorying  in  their  strength, 
while  they  are  betraying  their  weaknesses,  yet 
mighty  even  in  that  enthusiasm  which  is  only  dis- 
ciplined by  its  own  fierce  habits.  Bunyan  is  the 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES?  55 

Spenser  of  the  people.    The  fire  burned  towards 
heaven,  although  the  altar  was  rude  and  rustic. 

Barry,  the  painter,  has  left  behind  him  works 
not  to  be  turned  over  by  the  connoisseur  by  rote, 
nor  the  artist  who  dares,  not  be  just  and  will  not 
suffer  even  the  infirmities  of  genius  to  be  buried 
in  its  grave.  That  enthusiast,  with  a  temper  of 
mind  resembling  Rousseau's,  the  same  creature 
of  imagination,  consumed  by  the  same  passions, 
with  the  same  fine  intellect  disordered,  and  the 
same  fortitude  of  soul,  found  his  self-taught  pen, 
like  his  pencil,  betray  his  genius.  A  vehement 
enthusiasm  breaks  through  his  ill-composed  works, 
throwing  the  sparks  of  his  bold  and  rich  concep- 
tions, so  philosophical  and  magnificent,  into  the 
soul  of  the  youth  of  genius.  When  in  his  char- 
acter of  professor,  he  delivered  his  lectures  at 
the  academy,  he  never  ceased  speaking  but  his 
auditors  rose  in  a  tumult,  while  their  hands  return- 
ed to  him  the  proud  feelings  he  adored.  The 
self-educated  and  gifted  man,  once  listening  to 
the  children  of  genius,  whom  he  had  created 
about  him,  exclaimed,  "  Go  it,  go  it,  my  boys !  they 
did  so  at  Athens."  Thus  high  could  he  throw 
up  his  native  mud  into  the  very  heaven  of  his  in- 
vention ! 


56  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

But  even  the  pages  of  Barry  are  the  aliment 
of  young  genius  :  before  we  can  discern  the  beau- 
tiful, must  we  not  be  endowed  with  the  suscepti- 
bility of  love  ?  Must  not  the  disposition  be  form- 
ed before  even  the  object  appears  ?  The  unedu- 
cated Barry  is  the  higher  priest  of  enthusiasm 
than  the  educated  Reynolds.  I  have  witnessed 
the  young  artist  of  genius  glow  and  start  over  the 
reveries  of  Barry,  but  pause  and  meditate,  and 
inquire  over  the  mature  elegance  of  Reynolds  ; 
in  the  one,  he  caught  the  passion  for  beauty,  and 
in  the  other,  he  discovered  the  beautiful ;  with 
the  one  he  was  warm  and  restless,  and  with  the 
other  calm  and  satisfied. 

Of  the  difficulties  overcome  in  the  self-educa- 
tion of  genius,  we  have  a  remarkable  instance  in 
the  character  of  Moses  Mendelsohn,  on  whom 
literary  Germany  has  bestowed  the  honourable 
title  of  the  Jewish  Socrates.*  Such  were  the  ap- 

*  I  composed  the  life  of  Mendelsohn  so  far  back  as  in  17  , 
for  a  periodical  publication,  whence  our  late  biographers  have 
drawn  their  notices ;  a  juvenile  production,  which  happened  to 
excite  the  attention  of  the  late  BARRY,  then  not  personally 
known  to  me,  and  he  has  given  all  the  immortality  his  poeti- 
cal pencil  could  bestow  on  this  man  of  genius,  by  immediate- 
ly placing  in  his  elysium  of  genius,  Moses  Mendelsohn  shak- 
ing hands  with  ADDISON,  who  wrote  on  the  truth  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  and  near  LOCKE,  the  English  master  of  Mendel- 
sohn's mind. 


fHE  FIRST  STUDIES.  57 

parent  invincible  obstructions  which  barred  out 
Mendelsohn  from  the  world  of  literature  and  phi- 
losophy, that,  in  the  history  of  men  of  genius,  it 
is  something  like  taking  in  the  history  of  man, 
the  savage  of  Aveyron  from  his  woods, — who, 
destitute  of  a  human  language,  should  at  length 
create  a  model  of  eloquence  ;  without  a  faculty 
of  conceiving  a  figure,  should  be  capable  to  add 
to  the  demonstrations  of  Euclid  ;  and  without  a 
complex  idea  and  with  few  sensations,  should  at 
length,  in  the  sublimest  strain  of  metaphysics, 
open  to  the  world  a  new  view  of  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  ! 

Mendelsohn,  the  son  of  a  poor  rabbin,  in  a 
village  in  Germany,  received  an  education  com- 
pletely rabbinical,  and  its  nature  must  be  compre- 
hended, or  the  term  of  education  would  be  mis- 
understood. The  Israelites  in  Poland  and  Ger- 
many live,  with  all  the  restrictions  of  their  cere- 
monial law,  in  an  insulated  state,  and  are  not  al- 
ways instructed  in  the  language  of  the  country  of 
their  birth.  They  employ  for  their  common  in- 
tercourse a  barbarous  or  patois  Hebrew,  while 
the  sole  studies  of  the  young  rabbins  are  strictly 
confined  to  the  Talmud,,  of  which  the  fundamen- 
tal principle,  like  the  Sonna  of  the  Turks,  is  a 
pious  rejection  of  every  species  of  uninspired 


58  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

learning.  This  ancient  jealous  spirit,  which  walls 
in  the  understanding  and  the  faith  of  man,  was 
shutting  out  what  the  imitative  Catholics  after" 
wards  called  heresy.  It  is,  then,  these  numerous 
folios  of  the  Talmud  which  the  true  Hebraic  stu- 
dent contemplates  through  all  the  seasons  of  life, 
as  the  Patuecos  in  their  low  valley  imagine  their 
surrounding  mountains  to  be  the  confines  of  the 
universe. 

Of  such  a  nature  was  the  plan  of  MENDEL- 
SOHN'S first  studies  ;  but  even  in  his  boyhood  this 
conflict  of  study  occasioned  an  agitation  of  his 
spirits,  which  affected  his  life  ever  after  ;  reject- 
ing the  Talmudical  dreamers  he  caught  a  nobler 
spirit  from  the  celebrated  Maimonides  ;  and  his 
native  sagacity  was  already  clearing  up  the  dark- 
ness around.  An  enemy  not  less  hostile  to  the 
enlargement  of  mind  than  voluminous  legends, 
presented  itself  in  the  indigence  of  his  father, 
who  was  now  compelled  to  send  away  the  youth 
on  foot  to  Bfclm  to  find  labour  and  bread. 


At  Berlin  he  becomes  an  amanuensis  to  another 
poor  rabbin,  who  could  only  still  initiate  him  into 
the  theology,  the  jurisprudence  and  scholastic 
philosophy  of  his  people.  Thus  he  was  no  far- 
ther advanced  in  that  philosophy  of  the  mind  in 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES.  £Q 

which  he  was  one  day  to  be  the  rival  of  Plato  and 
Locke,  nor  in  that  knowledge  of  literature  of 
which  he  was  to  be  among  the  first  polished  cri- 
tics of  Germany. 

Some  unexpected  event  occurs  which  gives  the 
first  great  impulse  to  the  mind  of  genius.  MEN- 
DELSOHN received  this  from  the  first  companion 
of  his  misery  and  his  studies,  a  man  of  congenial, 
but  maturer  powers.  He  was  a  Polish  Jew,  ex- 
pelled from  the  communion  of  the  Orthodox, 
and  the  calumniated  student  was  now  a  vagrant, 
with  more  sensibility  than  fortitude.  But  this 
vagrant  was  a  philosopher,  a  poet,  a  naturalist 
and  a  mathematician.  MENDELSOHN,  at  a  distant 
day,  never  alluded  to  him  without  tears.  Thrown 
together  into  the  same  situation,  they  approached 
each  other  by  the  same  sympathies,  and  commu- 
nicating in  the  only  language  which  MENDELSOHN 
knew,  the  Polander  voluntarily  undertook  his  li- 
Jerary  education. 

Then  was  seen  0n£  of  the  most  extraordinary 
spectacles  in  the  history  of  modern  literature. 
Two  houseless  Hebrew  youths  might  be  discover- 
ed, in  the  moonlight  streets  of  Berlin,  sitting  in 
retired  corners,  or  on  the  steps  of  some  porch, 
the  one  instructing  the  other,  with  an  Euclid  in 
his  hand ;  but  what  is  more  extraordinary,  it  was 

i 


£0  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

a  Hebrew  version,  composed  by  himself,  for  one 
who  knew  no  other  language.  Who  could  then 
have  imagined  that  the  future  Plato  of  Germany 
was  sitting  on  those  steps  ! 

The  Polander,  whose  deep  melancholy  had 
settled  on  his  heart,  died — yet  he  had  not  lived  in 
vain,  since  the  electric  spark  that  lighted  up  the 
soul  of  MENDELSOHN  had  fallen  from  his  own. 

MENDELSOHN  was  now  left  alone ;  his  mind 
teeming  with  its  chaos,  and  stiil  master  of  no  other 
language  than  that  barren  idiom  which  was  inca- 
pable of  expressing  the  ideas  he  was  meditating 
on.  He  had  scarcely  made  a  step  into  the  philo- 
sophy of  his  age,  and  the  genius  of  MENDELSOHN 
had  probably  been  lost  to  Germany  had  not  the 
singularity  of  his  studies  and  the  cast  of  his  mind 
been  detected  by  the  sagacity  of  Dr.  Kisch.  The 
aid  of  this  physician  was  momentous  ;  for  he  de- 
voted several  hours  every  day  to  the  instruction  of 
a  poor  youth,  whose  strong  capacity  he  had  the 
discernment  to  perceive,  and  the  generous  tem- 
per to  aid.  MENDELSOHN  was  soon  enabled  to 
read  Locke  in  a  Latin  version,  but  with  such  ex- 
treme pain,  that,  compelled  to  search  for  every 
word,  and  to  arrange  their  Latin  order,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  combine  metaphysical  ideas,  it 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES.  51 

was  observed  that  he  did  not  so  much  translate, 
as  guess  by  the  force  of  meditation. 

This  prodigious  effort  of  his  intellect  retarded 
his  progress,  but  invigorated  his  habit,  as  the 
racer,  by  running  against  the  hill,  at  length  courses 
with  facility. 

A  succeeding  effort  was  to  master  the  living 
languages,  and  chiefly  the  English,  that  he  might 
read  his  favourite  Locke  in  his  own  idiom.  Thus 
a  great  genius  for  metaphysics  and  languages  was 
forming  itself  by  itself. 

It  is  curious  to  detect,  in  the  character  of 
genius,  the  effects  of  local  and  moral  influences. 
There  resulted  from  MENDELSOHN'S  early  situa- 
tion, certain  defects  in  his  intellectual  character, 
derived  from  his  poverty,  his  Jewish  education, 
and  his  numerous  impediments  in  literature.  In- 
heriting but  one  language,  too  obsolete  and  naked 
to  serve  the  purposes  of  modern  philosophy,  he 
perhaps  overvalued  his  new  acquisitions,  and  in 
his  delight  of  knowing  many  languages,  he  with 
difficulty  escaped  from  remaining  a  mere  philolo- 
gist ;  while  in  his  philosophy,  having  adopted  the 
prevailing  principles  of  Wolf  and  Baumgarten, 
his  genius  was  long  without  the  courage  or  the 


62  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

skill  to  emancipate  itself  from  their  rusty  chains. 
It  was  more  than  a  step  which  had  brought  him 
into  their  circle,  but  a  step  was  yet  wanted  to  es- 
cape from  it. 

At  length  the  mind  of  MENDELSOHN  enlarg- 
ed in  literary  intercourse  :  he  became  a  great 
and  original  thinker  in  many  beautiful  specula- 
tions in  moral  and  critical  philosophy ;  while 
he  had  gradually  been  creating  a  style  which  the 
critics  of  Germany  have  declared  was  their  first 
luminous  model  of  precision  and  elegance. — 
Thus  a  Hebrew  vagrant,  first  perplexed  in  the 
voluminous  labyrinth  of  Judaical  learning,  in  his 
middle  age  oppressed  by  indigence  and  malady, 
and  in  his  mature  life  wrestling  with  that  com- 
mercial station  whence  he  derived  his  humble 
independence,  became  one  of  the  masterwriters 
in  the  literature  of  his  country.  The  history  of 
the  mind  of  Mendelsohn  is  one  of  the  noblest 
pictures  of  the  self-education  of  genius. 

Friends,  who  are  s&  valuable  in  our  youth, 
are  usually  prejudicial  in  the  youth  of  genius. 
Peculiar  and  unfortunate  is  this  state,  which  is 
put  in  danger  from  what  in  every  other  it  de- 
rives security.  The  greater  part  of  the  multi- 
tude of  authors  and  artists  originate  in  the  ig- 
norant admiration  of  their  early  friends;  while 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES.  53 

the  real  genius  has  often  been  disconcerted  and 
thrown  into  despair,  by  the  ill  judgments  of  his 
domestic  circle.  The  productions  of  taste  are 
more  unfortunate  than  those  whictf  depend  on  a 
chain  of  reasoning,  or  the  detail  of  facts ;  these 
are  more  palpable  to  the  common  judgments  of 
men  ;  but  taste  is  of  such  rarity,  that  a  long  life 
may  be  passed  by  some  without  once  obtaining 
a  familiar  acquaintance  with  a  mind  so  culti- 
vated by  knowledge,  so  tried  by  experience, 
and  so  practised  by  converse  with  the  literary 
world  that  its  prophetic  feeling  anticipates  the 
public  opinion.  When  a  young  writer's  first 
essay  is  shown,  some,  through  mere  inability  of 
censure,  see  nothing  but  beauties ;  others,  with 
equal  imbecility,  can  see  none ;  and  others, 
out  of  pure  malice,  see  nothing  but  faults.  "  I 
was  soon  disgusted,"  says  Gibbon,  "  with  the 
modest  practice  of  reading  the  manuscript  to  my 
friends.  Of  such  friends  some  will  praise  for 
politeness,  and  some  will  criticise  for  vanity." 
Had  several  of  our  first  writers  set  their  fortunes 
on  the  cast  of  their  friends'  opinions,  we  might 
have  lost  some  precious  compositions.  The 
friends  of  Thomson  discovered  nothing  but 
faults  in  his  early  productions,  one  of  which 
happened  to  be  his  noblest,  the  "  Winter;"  they 
just  could  discern  that  these  abounded  with 


64  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

luxuriances,  without  being  aware  that  they  were 
the  luxuriances  of  a  poet.  He  had  created  a 
new  school  in  art — and  appealed  from  his  circle 
to  the  public.  From  a  manuscript  letter  of  our 
poet's,  written  when  employed  on  his  "  Summer," 
I  transcribe  his  sentiments  on  his  former  literary 
friends  in  Scotland — he  is  writing  to  Mallet  :* 
"  Far  from  defending  these  two  lines,  I  damn 
them  to  the  lowest  depth  of  the  poetical  Tophet, 
prepared  of  old,  for  Mitchell,  Morrice,  Rook, 
Cook,  Beckingham,  and  a  long  &c.  Where- 
ever  I  have  evidence,  or  think  I  have  evidence, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  I'll  be  as  obstinate  as 
all  the  mules  in  Persia."  This  poet,  of  warm 
affections,  so  irritably  felt  the  perverse  criticisms 
of  his  learned  friends,  that  they  were  to  share 
alike,  nothing  less  than  a  damnation  to  a  poetical 
hell.  One  of  these  "  blasts"  broke  out  in  a  vin- 
dictive epigram  on  Mitchell,  whom  he  describes 
with  a  "  blasted  eye ;"  but  this  critic  having  one 
literally,  the  poet,  to  avoid  a  personal  reflection, 
could  only  consent  to  make  the  blemish  more 
active— 

"  Why  all  not  faults,  injurious  Mitchell !  why 
Appears  one  beauty  to  thy  blasting  eye  ?" 

*  In  Mr.  Murray's  collection  of  autographical  letters. 


THE  FIRST  STUDIES.  65 

He  again  calls  him  "  the  planet-blasted  Mit- 
chell." Of  another  of  these  critical  friends  he 
speaks  with  more  sedateness,  but  with  a  strong 
conviction  that  the  critic,  a  very  sensible  man, 
had  no  sympathy  with  his  poet.  "  Aikman's 
reflections  on  my  writings  are  very  good,  but 
he  does  not  in  them  regard  the  turn  of  my  genius 
enough ;  should  I  alter  my  way  I  would  write 
poorly.  I  must  choose  what  appears  to  me  the 
most  significant  epithet,  or  I  cannot,  with  any 
heart,  proceed."  The  "  Mirror,"  when  publish- 
ed in  Edinburgh,  was  "  fastidiously"  received,  as 
all  "  home-productions"  are ;  but  London  aveng- 
ed the  cause  of  the  author.  When  Swift  intro- 
duced Parnel  to  Lord  Bolingbroke,  and  to  the 
world,  he  observes,  in  his  Journal  "  it  is  pleasant 
to  see  one  who  hardly  passed  for  any  thing  in 
Ireland,  make  his  way  here  with  a  little  friendly 
forwarding."  There  is  nothing  more  trying  to  the 
judgment  of  the  friends  of  a  young  man  of  geni- 
us, than  the  invention  of  a  new  manner ;  without 
a  standard  to  appeal  to,  without  bladders  to  swim, 
the  ordinary  critic  sinks  into  irretrievable  distress  ; 
but  usually  pronounces  against  npvelty.  When 
Reynolds  returned  from  Italy,  warm  with  all  the 
excellence  of  his  art,  says  Mr.  Northcote,  and 
painted  a  portrait,  his  old  master,  Hudson,  view- 
ing it,  and  perceiving  no  trace  of  his  own  manner, 


£6  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

exclaimed  that  he  did  not  paint  so  well  as  when 
he  left  England  ;  while  another,  who  conceived 
no  higher  excellence  than  Kneller,  treated 
with  signal  contempt  the  future  Raphael  of 
England. 

If  it  be  dangerous  for  a  young  writer  to  resign 
himself  to  the  opinions  of  his  friends,  he  also 
incurs  some  peril  in  passing  them  with  inattention. 
What  an  embarrassment !  He  wants  a  Quintilian. 
One  great  means  to  obtain  such  an  invaluable 
critic,  is  the  cultivation  of  his  own  judgment,  in  a 
round  of  meditation  and  reading  ;  let  him  at  once 
supply  the  marble  and  be  himself  the  sculptor  :  let 
the  great  authors  of  the  world  be  his  gospels,  and 
the  best  critics  their  expounders ;  from  the  one 
he  will  draw  inspiration,  and  from  the  others  he 
will  supply  those  tardy  discoveries  in  art,  which 
he  who  solely  depends  on  his  own  experience 
may  obtain  too  late  in  life.  Those  who  do  not 
read  criticism  will  not  even  merit  to  be  criticised. 
The  more  extensive  an  author's  knowledge  of 
what  has  been  done,  the  greater  will  be  his  pow- 
ers in  knowing  what  to  do.  Let  him  preserve 
his  juvenile  compositions, — whatever  these  may 
be,  they  are  the  spontaneous  growth,  and,  like 
the  plants  of  the  Alps,  not  always  found  in  other 
soils ;  they  are  his  virgin  fancies ;  by  contemplat- 


THE  FIUST  STUDIES.  37 

ing  them,  he  may  detect  some  of  his  predomi- 
nant habits, — resume  an  old  manner  more  hap- 
pily,— invent  novelty  from  an  old  subject  he 
had  so  rudely  designed, — and  often  may  steal 
from  himself  something  so  fine  that,  when 
thrown  into  his  most  finished  compositions,  it 
may  seem  a  happiness  rather  than  art.  A  young 
writer,  in  the  progress  of  his  studies,  should 
often  recollect  a  fanciful  simile  of  Dryden. — 

"  As  those  who  unripe  veins  in  mines  explore, 
On  the  rich  bed  again  the  warm  turf  lay: 
Till  time  digests  the  yet  imperfect  ore, 
And  know  it  will  be  Gold  another  day." 

Ingenious  youth !  if,  in  a  constant  perusal  of 
the  master-writers,  you  see  your  own  sentiments 
anticipated,  and  in  the  tumult  of  your  mind  as  it 
comes  in  contact  with  theirs,  new  ones  arise ; 
if  in  meditating  on  the  Confessions  of  Rousseau, 
or  on  those  of  every  man  of  genius,  for  they  have 
all  their  confessions,  you  recollect  that  you  have 
experienced  the  same  sensations  from  the  same 
circumstances,  and  that  you  have  encountered 
the  same  difficulties  and  overcome  them  by 
the  same  means,  then  let  not  your  courage 
be  lost  in  your  admiration, — but  listen  to 
that  "  still  small  voice"  in  your  heart,  which 


63  THE  FIRST  STUDIES. 

cries  with    Corrcggio   and    with    Montesquieu, 
"  Ed  io  anche  son  Pittore  !"* 


*  This  noble  consciousness  with  which  the  Italian  painter 
gave  utterance  to  his  strong  feelings  on  viewing  a  celebrated 
picture  by  one  of  his  rivals,  is  applied  by  Montesquieu  to 
himself  at  the  close  of  tht  preface  to  his  great  work. 


(69) 


CHAPTER  IV. 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 


1  HE  modes  of  life  of  a  man  of  genius,  often 
tinctured  by  eccentricity  and  enthusiasm,  are 
in  an  eternal  conflict  with  the  monotonous  and 
imitative  habits  of  society,  as  society  is  carried 
on  in  a  great  metropolis, — where  men  are  neces- 
sarily alike,  and  in  perpetual  intercourse,  shaping 
themselves  to  one  another. 

The  occupations,  the  amusements,  and  the 
ardour  of  the  man  of  genius,  are  discordant 
with  the  artificial  habits  of  life  ;  in  the  vortexes 
of  business  or  the  world  of  pleasure,  crowds  of 
human  beings  are  only  treading  in  one  another's 
steps  ;  the  pleasures  and  the  sorrows  of  this  active 
multitude  are  not  his,  while  his  are  not  obvious  to 
them  :  Genius  in  society  is  therefore  often  in  a 
state  of  suffering.  Professional  characters,  who 
are  themselves  so  often  literary,  yielding  to  their 


70  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

predominant  interests,  conform  to  that  assumed 
urbanity  which  levels  them  with  ordinary  minds; 
but  the  man  of  genius  cannot  leave  himself 
behind  in  the  cabinet  he  quits ;  the  train  of  his 
thoughts  is  not  stopt  at  will,  and  in  the  range  of 
conversation  the  habits  of  his  mind  will  prevail ; 
an  excited  imagination,  a  high  toned  feeling, 
a  wandering  reverie,  a  restlessness  of  temper,  are 
perpetually  carrying  him  out  of  the  processional 
line  of  the  mere  conversationists.  He  is,  like 
all  solitary  beings,  much  too  sentient,  and  pre- 
pares for  defence  even  at  a  random  touch.  His 
emotions  are  rapid,  his  generalizing  views  take 
things  only  in  masses,  while  he  treats  with  levity 
some  useful  prejudices ;  he  interrogates,  he 
doubts,  he  is  caustic ;  in  a  word,  he  thinks  he 
converses,  while  he  is  at  his  studies.  Sometimes, 
apparently  a  complacent  listener,  we  are  morti- 
fied by  detecting  the  absent  man ;  now  he  ap- 
pears humbled  and  spiritless,  ruminating  over 
some  failure  which  probably  may  be  only  known 
to  himself,  and  now  haughty  and  hardy  for  a 
triumph  he  has  obtained,  which  y*t  remains  as 
secret  to  the  world.  He  is  sometimes  insolent, 
and  sometimes  querulous.  He  is  stung  by  jeal- 
ousy ;  or  he  writhes  in  aversion  ;  his  eyes  kindle, 
and  his  teeth  gnash ;  a  fever  shakes  his  spirit ; 
a  fever  which  has  sometimes  generated  a  disease, 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  71 

and  has  even  produced  a  slight  perturbation  of 
the  faculties.* 

Once  we  were  nearly  receiving  from  the  hand 
of  genius  itself,  the  most  curious  sketches  of  the 
temper,  the  irascible  humours,  the  delicacy  of 
soul  even  to  its  shadowiness,  from  the  warm  sboz- 
zos  of  Burns  when  he  began  a  diary  of  the  heart, 
— a  narrative  of  characters  and  events,  and  a 
chronology  of  his  emotions.  It  was  natural  for 
such  a  creature  of  sensation  and  passion  to  pro- 
ject such  a  regular  task  ;  but  quite  impossible  to 
get  through  it.  The  paper-book  that  he  conceiv- 
ed would  have  recorded  all  these  things,  there- 
fore turns  out  but  a  very  imperfect  document. 
Even  that  little  it  was  not  thought  proper  to  give 
entire.  Yet  there  we  view  a  warm  original  mind, 
when  he  first  stept  into  the  polished  circles  of  so- 
ciety, discovering  that  he  could  no  longer  "  pour 
out  his  bosom,  his  every  thought  and  floating 
fancy,  his  very  inmost  soul,  with  unreserved 

*  I  have  given  a  history  of  Literary  Quarrels  from  personal 
motives,  in  Quarrels  of  Authors,  vol.  iii.  p.  285.  There  we  find 
how  many  controversies,  in  which  the  public  get  involved, 
have  sprung  from  some  sudden  squabble,  some  neglect  of  petty 
civility,  some  unlucky  epithet,  or  some  casual  observation 
dropped  without  much  consideration,  which  mortified  or  en- 
raged an  author.  See  further  symptoms  of  this  disease,  at 
the  close  of  the  chapter  on  "  Self-praise/'  in  the  present  wort. 


72  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENINS, 

confidence  to  another,  without  hazard  of  losing 
part  of  that  respect  which  man  deserves  from 
man ;  or,  from  the  unavoidable  imperfections 
attending  human  nature,  of  one  day  repenting 
his  confidence."  This  was  the  first  lesson  he 
learnt  at  Edinburgh,  and  it  was  as  a  substitute 
for  such  a  human  being,  that  he  bought  a  paper- 
book  to  keep  under  lock  and  key ;  a  security  at 
least  equal,  says  he,  "to  the  bosom  of  any 
friend  whatever."  Let  the  man  of  genius  pause 
over  the  fragments  of  this  "  paper-book ;"  it 
will  instruct  as  much  as  any  open  confession  of 
a  criminal  at  the  moment  he  is  to  suffer.  No 
man  was  more  afflicted  with  that  miserable 
pride,  the  infirmity  of  men  of  imagination, 
which  exacts  from  its  best  friends  a  perpetual 
reverence  and  acknowledgment  of  its  powers. 
Our  Poet,  with  all  his  gratitude  and  veneration 
for  "  the  noble  Glencairn,"  was  "  wounded  to 
the  soul"  because  his  Lordship  showed  "  so 
much  attention,  engrossing  attention,  to  the  only 
blockhead  at  table ;  the  whole  company  con- 
sisted of  his  Lordship,  Dunderpate,  and  myself." 
This  Dunderpate,  who  dined  with  Lord  Glen- 
cairn,  might  have  been  of  more  importance  to 
the  world  than  even  a  poet ;  one  of  the  best  and 
most  useful  men  in  it.  Burns  was  equally  of- 
fended with  another  of  his  patrons,  and  a  literary 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  73 

brother,  Dr.  Blair.  At  the  moment,  he  too  ap- 
peared to  be  neglecting  the  irritable  Poet — "  for 
the  mere  carcass  of  greatness — or  when  his  eye 
measured  the  difference  of  their  point  of  eleva- 
tion ;  I  say  to  myself,  with  scarcely  any  emotion,5' 
(he  might  have  added,  except  a  good  deal  of 
contempt,)  "  what  do  I  care  for  him  or  his  pomp 
either  ?" — "  Dr.  Blair's  vanity  is  proverbially 
known  among  his  acquaintance,"  adds  Burns,  at 
the  moment  that  the  solitary  haughtiness  of  his 
own  genius  had  entirely  escaped  his  self-observa- 
tion. Such  are  the  chimeras  of  passion  infesting 
the  distempered  imagination  of  irritable  genius ! 

Such  therefore  are  censured  for  great  irritabil- 
ity of  disposition ;  and  that  happy  equality  of 
temper  so  prevalent  among  mere  men  of  letters,* 
and  which  is  conveniently  acquired  by  men  of 
the  world,  has  been  usually  refused  to  great 
mental  powers,  or  to  vivacious  dispositions ;  au- 
thors or  artists.  The  man  of  wit  becomes  petu- 
lant, and  the  profound  thinker,  morose. 


*  The  class  of  Literary  Characters  whom  I  would  distin- 
guish as  MEN  OF  LETTERS,  are  described  under  that  title  in 
this  volume. 


74  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

When  Rousseau  once  retired  to  a  village,  he 
had  to  learn  to  endure  its  conversation ;  for  this 
purpose  he  was  compelled  to  invent  an  expedient 
to  get  rid  of  his  uneasy  sensations.  "  Alone," 
says  Rousseau,  "  I  have  never  known  ennui, 
even  when  perfectly  unoccupied ;  my  imagina- 
tion, filling  the  void,  was  sufficient  to  busy  me. 
It  is  only  the  inactive  chit-chat  of  the  room, 
when  every  one  is  seated  face  to  face,  and  only 
moving  their  tongues,  which  I  never  could  sup- 
port. There  to  be  a  fixture,  nailed  with  one 
hand  on  the  other,  to  settle  the  state  of  the 
weather,  or  watch  the  flies  about  one,  or  what 
is  worse,  to  be  bandying  compliments,  this  to 
me  is  not  bearable."  He  hit  on  the  expedient 
of  making  lace-strings,  carrying  his  working 
cushion  in  his  visits,  to  keep  the  peace  with  the 
country  gossips. 

Is  the  occupation  of  making  a  great  name 
less  anxious  and  precarious  than  that  of  making 
a  great  fortune  ?  the  progress  of  a  man's  capital 
is  unequivocal  to  him,  but  that  of  the  fame  of 
an  author,  or  an  artist,  is  for  the  greater  part  of 
their  lives  of  an  ambiguous  nature.  They  find 
it  in  one  place,  and  they  lose  it  in  another.  We 
may  often  smile  at  the  local  gradations  of  geni- 
us ;  the  esteem  in  which  an  author  is  held  here, 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GEiNIUS.  75 

and  the  contempt  he  encounters  there ;  here 
the  learned  man  is  condemned  as  a  heavy  drone, 
and  there  the  man  of  wit  annoys  the  unwitty  list- 
ener. 

And  are  not  the  anxieties,  of  even  the  most 
successful,  renewed  at  every  work  ?  often  quitted 
in  despair,  often  returned  to  with  rapture ;  the 
same  agitation  of  the  spirits,  the  same  poignant 
delight,  the  same  weariness,  the  same  dissatis- 
faction, the  same  querulous  languishment  after 
excellence.  Is  the  man  of  genius  a  discoverer? 
the  discovery  is  contested,  or  it  is  not  compre- 
hended for  ten  years  after,  or  during  his  whole 
life ;  even  men  of  science  are  as  children  before 
him.  There  is  a  curious  letter  in  Sir  Thomas 
Bodiey's  Remains  to  Lord  Bacon,  then  Sir  Fran- 
cis, where  he  remonstrates  with  Bacon  on  his 
new  mode  of  philosophising.  It  seems  the  fate 
of  all  originality  of  thinking  to  be  immediately 
opposed;  no  contemporary  seems  equal  to  its 
comprehension.  Bacon  was  not  at  all  under- 
stood at  home  in  his  own  day ;  his  celebrity  was 
confined  to  his  History  of  Henry  VII.  and  to 
his  Essays.  In  some  unpublished  letters  I  find 
Sir  Edward  Coke  writing  very  miserable,  but 
very  bitter  verses,  oft  a  copy  of  the  Instauratio 
presented  to  him  by  Bacon,  and  even  James  I. 


76  OP  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

declaring  that,  like  God's  power,  "  it  passeth 
beyond  all  understanding."  When  Kepler  pub- 
lished his  work  on  Comets,  the  first  rational 
one,  it  was  condemned  even  by  the  learned 
themselves  as  extravagant.  We  see  the  learned 
Selden  signing  his  recantation  ;  and  long  after- 
wards the  propriety  of  his  argument  on  Tithes 
fully  allowed;  the  aged  Galileo  on  his  knees, 
with  his  hand  on  the  Gospels,  abjuring,  as  ab- 
surdities, errors,  and  heresies,  the  philosophical 
truths, he  had  ascertained.  Harvey,  in  his  eighti- 
eth year,  did  not  live  to  witness  his  great  disco- 
very established.  Adam  Smith  was  reproached 
by  the  economists  for  having  borrowed  his  sys- 
tem from  them,  as  if  the  mind  of  genius  does 
not  borrow  little  parts  to  create  its  own  vast 
views.  The  great  Sydenham,  by  the  indepen- 
dence and  force  of  his  genius,  so  highly  pro- 
voked the  malignant  emulation  of  his  rivals,  that 
they  conspired  to  have  him  banished  out  of  the 
College  as  "  guilty  of  medicinal  heresy."  Such 
is  the  fate  of  men  of  genius,  who  advance  a  cen- 
tury beyond  their  contemporaries ! 

Is  our  man  of  genius  a  learned  author  ?  Erudi- 
tion is  a  thirst  which  its  fountains  have  never 
satiated.  What  volumes  remain  to  open  !  What 
manuscript  but  makes  his  heart  palpitate  !  There 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  77 

is  no  measure,  no  term  in  researches,  which  every 
new  fact  may  alter,  and  a  date  may  dissolve. 
Truth !  thou  fascinating,  but  severe  mistress ! 
thy  adorers  are  often  broken  down  in  thy  servi- 
tude, performing  a  thousand  unregarded  task- 
works ;*  or  now  winding  thee  through  thy  laby- 

*  Look  on  a  striking  picture  of  these  thousand  task-works, 
coloured  by  his  literary  pangs,  of  Le  Grand  D'Aussy,  the  lite- 
rary antiquary,  who  could  never  finish  his  very  curious  work, 
on  "  The  History  of  the  private  life  of  the  French." 

"  Endowed  with  a  courage  at  all  proofs,  with  health,  which 
till  then  was  unaltered,  and  which  excess  of  labour  has  greatly 
changed,  I  devoted  myself  to  write  the  lives  of  the  learned, 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  Renouncing  all  kinds  of  pleasure, 
working  ten  to  twelve  hours  a  day,  extracting,  ceaselessly 
copying  ;  after  this  sad  life,  I  nowr  wished  to  draw  breath, 
turn  over  what  I  had  amassed,  and  arrange  it.  I  found  myself 
possessed  of  many  thousands  of  bulletins,  of  which  the  longest 
did  not  exceed  many  lines.  At  the  sight  of  this  frightful 
chaos,  from  which  I  was  to  form  a  regular  history.  I  must 
confess  that  I  shuddered  ;  I  felt  myself  for  some  time  in  a 
stupor  and  depression  of  spirits  ;  and  now  actually  that  I  have 
finished  this  work,  I  cannot  endure  the  recollection  of  that 
moment  of  alarm,  without  a  feeling  of  involuntary  terror. 
What  a  business  is  this,  good  God,  of  a  compiler  !  in  truth  it 
is  too  much  condemned  ;  it  merits  some  regard.  At  length  I 
regained  courage,  I  returned  to  my  researches :  I  have  com- 
pleted my  plan,  though  every  day  I  was  forced  to  add,  to  cor- 
rect, to  change  my  facts  as  well  as  my  ideas:  six  times  has  my 
hand  recopied  my  work,  and  however  fatiguing  this  may  be, 
it  certainly  is  not  that  portion  of  my  task  which  has  cost  me 
most." 

G    2 


78  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

rinth,  with  a  single  thread  often  unravelling, 
and  now  feeling  their  way  in  darkness,  doubtful 
if  it  be  thyself  they  are  touching.  The  man  of 
erudition,  after  his  elaborate  work,  is  exposed 
to  the  fatal  omissions  of  wearied  vigilance,  or 
the  accidental  knowledge  of  some  inferior  mind, 
and  always  to  the  taste,  whatever  it  chance  to  be, 
of  the  public. 

The  favourite  work  of  Newton  was  his  Chro- 
nology, which  he  wrote  over  fifteen  times ;  but 
desisted  from  its  publication  during  his  life-time, 
from  the  ill  usage  he  had  received,  of  which  he 
gave  several  instances  to  Pearce,  the  Bishop  of 
Rochester.  The  same  occurred  to  Sir  John 
Marsham,  who  found  himself  accused  as  not 
being  friendly  to  revelation.  When  the  learned 
Pocock  published  a  specimen  of  his  translation 
of  Abulpharagius,  an  Arabian  historian ,  in  1649, 
it  excited  great  interest,  but  when  he  published 
his  complete  version,  in  1663,  it  met  with  no 
encouragement ;  in  the  course  of  those  thirteen 
years,  the  genius  of  the  times  had  changed ; 
oriental  studies  were  no  longer  in  request. 
Thevenot  then  could  not  find  a  bookseller  in 
London  or  at  Amsterdam  to  print  his  Abulfeda, 
nor  another,  learned  in  Arabian  lore,  his  history 
of  Saladine. 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  79 

The  reputation  of  a  writer  of  taste  is  subjected 
to  more  difficulties  than  any  other.  Every  day 
we  observe,  of  a  work  of  genius,  that  those  parts 
which  have  all  the  racineness  of  the  soil,  and  as 
such  are  most  liked  by  its  admirers,  are  the  most 
critised.  Modest  critics  shelter  themselves  under 
that  general  amnesty  too  freely  granted,  that 
tastes  are  allowed  to  differ ;  but  we  should  ap- 
proximate much  nearer  to  the  truth  if  we  say 
that  but  few  of  mankind  are  capable  of  relishing 
the  beautiful,  with  that  enlarged  taste,  which  com- 
prehends all  the  forms  of  feeling  which  genius 
may  assume  ;  forms  which  may  even  at  times  be 
associated  with  defects.  Would  our  author  de- 
light with  the  style  of  taste,  of  imagination,  of 
passion  ?  a  path  opens  strewed  with  roses,  but  his 
feet  bleed  on  their  invisible  thorns.  A  man  of 
genius  composes  in  a  state  of  intellectual  emo- 
tion, and  the  magic  of  his  style  consists  of  the 
movements  of  the  soul,  but  the  art  of  conduct- 
ing those  movements  is  separate  from  the  feeling 
which  inspires  them.  The  idea  in  the  mind  is 
not  always  to  be  found  under  the  pen.  The 
artist's  conception  often  breathes  not  in  his 
pencil.  He  toils,  and  repeatedly  toils,  to  throw 
into  our  minds  that  sympathy  with  which  we 
hang  over  the  illusion  of  his  pages,  and  become 
himself.  A  great  author  is  a  great  artist ;  if  the 


80  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

hand  cannot  leave  the  picture,  how  much  beauty 
will  he  undo !  yet  still  he  is  lingering,  still 
strengthening  the  weak,  still  subduing  the  daring, 
still  searching  for  that  single  idea  which  awakens 
so  many  in  others,  while  often,  as  it  once  happen- 
ed, the  dash  of  despair  hangs  the  foam  on  the 
horse's  nostrils.  The  art  of  composition  is  of 
such  slow  attainment,  that  a  man  of  genius,  late 
in  life,  may  discover  how  its  secret  conceals  itself 
in  the  habit.  When  Fox  meditated  on  a  history 
which  should  last  with  the  language,  he  met  his 
evil  genius  in  this  new  province  :  the  rapidity  and 
the  fire  of  his  elocution  were  extinguished  by  a 
pen  unconsecrated  by  long  and  previous  study ; 
he  saw  that  he  could  not  class  with  the  great  his- 
torians of  every  great  people;  he  complained, 
while  he  mourned  over  the  fragment  of  genius, 
which,  after  such  zealous  preparation,  he  dared 
not  complete.  Rousseau  has  glowingly  described 
the  ceaseless  inquietude  by  which  he  obtained 
the  seductive  eloquence  of  his  style,  and  has  said 
that  with  whatever  talent  a  man  may  be  born,  the 
art  of  writing  is  not  easily  obtained.  His  existing 
manuscripts  display  more*  erasures  than  Pope's, 
and  show  his  eagerness  to  set  down  his  first 
thoughts,  and  his  art  to  raise  them  to  the  impas- 
sioned style  of  his  imagination.  The  memoir  of 
Gibbon  was  composed  seven  or  nine  times,  and 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  81 

after  all,  was  left  unfinished.  Bum's  anxiety  in 
finishing  his  poems  was  great ;  "all  my  poetry," 
says  he,  "  is  the  effect  of  easy  composition,  but  of 
laborious  correction." 

Pope,  when  employed  on  the  Iliad,  found  it 
not  only  occupy  his  thoughts  by  day,  but  haunting 
his  dreams  by  night,  and  once  wished  himself 
hanged,  to  get  rid  of  Homer :  and  that  he  expe- 
rienced often  such  literary  agonies,  witness  his 
description  of  the  depressions  and  elevations  of 
geuius, 

"  Who  pants  for  glory,  finds  but  short  repose, 
A  breath  revives  him,  or  a  breath  o'erthrows  !" 

Thus  must  the  days  of  a  great  author  be  passed 
in  labours  as  unremitting  and  exhausting  as  those 
of  the  artizan.  The  world  are  not  always  aware, 
that  to  some,  meditation,  composition,  and  even 
conversation,  may  inflict  pains  undetected  by  the 
eye  and  the  tenderness  of  friendship.  Whenever 
Rousseau  passed  a  morning  in  company,  he  tells 
us  it  was  observed  that  in  the  evening  he  was  dis- 
satisfied and  distressed;  and  John  Hunter,  in 
a  mixed  company,  found  conversation  fatigued, 
instead  of  amusing  him.  Hawksworth,  in  the 
second  paper  of  the  Adventurer,  has  composed, 
from  his  own  feelings,  an  eloquent  comparative 


32  OF   THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

estimate  of  intellectual  and  corporeal  labour ;  it 
may  console  the  humble  mechanic. 

The  anxious  uncertainty  of  an  author  for  his 
compositions  resembles  that  of  a  lover  when  he 
has  written  to  a  mistress,  not  yet  decided  on  his 
claims ;  he  repents  his  labour,  for  he  thinks  he 
has  written  too  much,  while  he  is  mortified  at 
recollecting  that  he  had  omitted  some  things 
which  he  imagines  would  have  secured  the  object 
of  his  wishes.  Madame  de  Stael,  who  has  often 
entered  into  feelings  familiar  to  a  literary  and 
political  family,  in  a  parallel  between  ambition 
with  genius,  has  distinguished  them  in  this,  that 
while  "  ambition  perseveres  in  the  desire  of  ac- 
quiring power,  genius  flags  of  itself.  Genius  in 
the  midst  of  society  is  a  pain,  an  internal  fever 
which  would  require  to  be  treated  as  a  real 
disease,  if  the  records  of  glory  did  not  soften  the 
sufferings  it  produces." 

These  moments  of  anxiety  often  darken  the 
brightest  hours  of  genius.  Racine  had  extreme 
sensibility;  the  pain  inflicted  by  a  severe  criti- 
cism outweighed  all  the  applause  he  received. 
He  seems  to  have  felt,  what  he  was  often  re- 
proached with,  that  his  Greeks,  his  Jews,  and 
his  Turks  were  all  inmates  of  Versailles.  He 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  33 

had  two  critics,  who,  like  our  Dennis  with  Pope 
and  Addison,  regularly  dogged  his  pieces  as 
they  appeared.  Corneille's  objections  he  would 
attribute  to  jealousy — at  his  burlesqued  pieces 
at  the  Italian  theatre,  he  would  smile  outwardly, 
though  sick  at  heart, — but  his  son  informs  us, 
that  a  stroke  of  raillery  from  his  witty  friend 
Chapelle,  whose  pleasantry  scarcely  concealed 
its  bitterness,  sunk  more  deeply  into  his  heart 
than  the  burlesques  at  the  Italian  theatre,  the 
protest  of  Corneille,  and  tlie  iteration  of  the 
two  Dennises.  The  life  of  Tasso  abounds  with 
pictures  of  a  complete  exhaustion  of  this  kind ; 
liis  contradictory  critics  had  perplexed  him  with 
the  most  intricate  literary  discussions,  and  pro- 
bably occasioned  a  mental  alienation.  We  find 
in  one  of  his  letters  that  he  repents  the  compo- 
sition of  his  great  poemvfor  although  his  own 
taste  approved  of  that  marvellous,  which  still 
forms  the  nobler  part  of  its  creation,  yet  he 
confesses  that  his  critics  have  decided,  that  the 
history  of  his  hero  Godfrey  required  another 
species  of  conduct.  "  Hence,"  cries  the  unhap- 
^py  bard,  "  doubts  vex  me  ;  but  for  the  past  and 
what  is  done,  I  know  of  no  remedy  ;"  and  he 
longs  to  precipitate  the  publication  that  "he 
may  be  delivered  from  misery  and  agony."  He 
solemnly  swears  that  "  did  not  the  circumstances 


84         OF  THE   IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

of  my  situation  compel  me,  I  would  not  print 
it,  even  perhaps  during  my  life,  I  so  much 
doubt  of  its  success."  Such  was  that  painful 
state  of  fear  and  doubt,  experienced  by  the 
author  of  the  "Jerusalem  Delivered"  when  he 
gave  it  to  the  world;  a  state  of  suspense,  among 
the  children  of  imagination,  of  which  none 
are  more  liable  to  participate  in,  than  the  too 
sensitive  artist.  At  Florence  may  still  be  viewed 
the  many  works  begun  and  abandoned  by  the 
genius  of  Michael  Angelo ;  they  are  preserved 
inviolate  ;  "  so  sacred  is  the  terror  of  Michael 
Angelo's  genius  !"  exclaims  Forsyth.  Yet  these 
works  are  not  always  to  be  considered  as  failures 
of  the  chissel;  they  appear  rather  to  have  been 
rejected  by  coming  short  of  the  artist's  first 
conceptions.  An  interesting  domestic  story  has 
been  preserved  of  Gesner,  who  so  zealously 
devoted  his  graver  and  his  pencil  to  the  arts,  but 
his  sensibility  was  ever  struggling  after  that  ideal 
excellence  he  could  not  attain;  often  he  sunk 
into  fits  of  melancholy,  and  gentle  as  he  was, 
the  tenderness  of  his  wife  and  friends  could  not 
sooth  his  distempered  feelings ;  it  was  necessary 
to  abandon  him  to  his  own  thoughts,  till  after  a 
long  abstinence  from  his  neglected  works,  in  a 
lucid  moment,  some  accident  occasioned  him  to 
return  to  them.  In  one  of  these  hypochondria 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF    GENIUS.  g£ 

ef  genius,  after  a  long  interval  of  despair,  one 
morning  at  breakfast  with  his  wife,  his  eye  fixed 
on  one  of  his  pictures ;  it  was  a  group  of  fauns 
with  young  shepherds  dancing  at  the  entrance 
of  a  cavern  shaded  with  vines ;  his  eye  appeared 
at  length  to  glisten ;  and  a  sudden  return  to 
good  humour  broke  out  in  this  lively  apostro- 
phe, "  Ah !  see  those  playful  children,  they 
always  dance !"  This  was  the  moment  of  gaie- 
ty and  inspiration,  and  he  flew  to  his  forsaken 
easel. 

La  Harpe,  an  author  by  profession,  observes, 
that  as^  it  has  been  shown,  that  there  are  some 
maladies  peculiar  to  artists, — there  are  also  sor- 
rows which  are  peculiar  to  them,  and  which  the 
world  can  neither  pity  nor  soften,  because  they 
do  not  enter  into  their  experience.  The  queru- 
lous language  of  so  many  men  of  genius  has 
been  sometimes  attributed  to  causes  very  differ- 
ent from  the  real  ones, — the  most  fortunate 
live  to  see  their  talents  contested  and  their  best 
works  decried.  An  author  with  certain  critics 
seems  much  in  the  situation  of  Benedict,  when 
he  exclaimed — "  Hang  me  in  a  bottle,  like  a 
pat,  and  shoot  at  me ;  and  he  that  hits  me,  let 
him  be  clapped  on  the  shoulder,  and  called 
Adam!"  Assuredly  many  an  author  has  sunk 
H 


gg  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

into  his  grave  without  the  consciousness  of 
having  obtained  that  fame  for  which  he  had  in 
vain  sacrificed  an  arduous  life.  The  too  feeling 
Smollet  has  left  this  testimony  to  posterity. 
"  Had  some  of  those,  who  are  pleased  to  call 
themselves  my  friends,  been  at  any  pains  to 
deserve  the  character,  and  told  me  ingenuously 
what  I  had  to  expect  in  the  capacity  of  an  au- 
thor, I  should,  in  all  probability,  have  spared 
myself  the  incredible  labour  and  chagrin  1  have 
since  undergone."  And  Smollet  was  a  popular 
writer !  Pope's  solemn  declaration  in  the  pre- 
face to  his  collected  works  comes  by  no  means 
§hort  of  Smollet's  avowal.  Hume's  philosophi- 
cal indifference  could  often  suppress  that  irri- 
tability which  Pope  and  Smollet  fully  indulged, 
But  were  the  feelings  of  Hume  more  obtuse,  oy 
did  his  temper,  gentle  as  it  was  constitutionally, 
bear,  with  a  saintly  patience,  the  mortifications 
his  literary  life  so  long  endured  ?  Alter  recom- 
posirig  two  of  his  works,  which  incurred  the 
same  neglect  in  their  altered  form,  he  raised  the 
most  sanguine  hopes  of  his  history, — but  he 
telis  us,  "  miserable  was  my  disappointment !" 
The  reasoning  Hume  once  proposed  changing 
his  name  and  his  country  !  and  although  he  never 
deigned  to  reply  to  his  opponents,  yet  »hey  haunt- 
ed him  ;  and  an  eye-witness  has  thus  described 
the  irritated  author  discovering  in  conversation 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  87 

his  suppressed  resentment — "  His  forcible  mode 
of  expression,  the  brilliant  quick  movements 
of  his  eyes,  and  the  gestures  of  his  body," — 
these  betrayed  the  pangs  of  contempt,  or  of 
aversion  !  Erasmus  once  resolved  to  abandon  for 
ever  his  favourite  literary  pursuits ;  "  if  this," 
he  exclaimed,  alluding  to  his  adversaries,  "  if 
this  be  the  fruits  of  all  my  youthful  labours ! — " 

Parlies  confederate  against  a  man  of  genius,  as 
happened  to  Corneille,  to  D'Avenant*  and  Milton, 
and  a  Pradon  and  a  Settle  carry  away  the  meed 
of  a  Racine  and  a  Dryden.  It  was  to  support 
the  drooping  spirit  of  his  friend  Racine  on  the 
opposition  raised  against  Phaedra,  that  Boileau 
addressed  to  him  an  epistle  on  the  utility  to  be 
drawn  from  the  jealousy  of  the  envious.  It 
was  more  to  the  world  than  to  his  country,  that 
Lord  Bacon  appealed,  by  a  frank  and  noble  con- 
ception in  his  will,: — "  For  my  name  and  memo- 
ry, I  leave  it  to  men's  charitable  speeches,  and 
to  foreign  nations,  and  the  next  age."  The 
calm  dignity  of  the  historian  De  Thou,  amidst 
the  passions  of  his  times,  confidently  expected 
that  justice  from  posterity  which  his  own  age 
refused  to  his  early  and  his  late  labour  :  that 

*  See  «  Quarrels  of  Authors,"  vol.  ii.  on  the  confederacy 
of  several  wits  against  D'Avenant,  a  great  genius. 


88  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

great  man  was,  however,  compelled,  by  his 
injured  feelings,  to  compose  a  poem,  under  the 
name  of  another,  to  serve  as  his  apology  against 
the  intolerant  Court  of  Rome,  and  the  factious 
politicians  of  France ;  it  was  a  noble  subterfuge 
to  which  a  great  genius  was  forced.  The  ac- 
quaintances of  the  poet  Collins  probably  com- 
plained of  his  wayward  humours  and  irrita- 
bility ;  but  how  could  they  sympathize  with  the 
secret  mortification  of  the  poet  for  having 
failed  in  his  Pastorals,  imagining  that  they 
were  composed  on  wrong  principles ;  or  with  a 
secret  agony  of  soul,  burning  with  his  own  hands 
his  unsold,  but  immortal  Odes?  Nor  must  we 
forget  here  the  dignified  complaint  of  the  Ram- 
bler, with  which  he  awfully  closes  his  work,  in  ap- 
pealing to  posterity. 

In  its  solitary  occupations,  genius  contracts 
its  peculiarities,  and  in  that  sensibility  which  ac- 
companies it,  that  loftiness  of  spirit,  those  quick 
jealousies,  those  excessive  affections  and  aver- 
sions, which  view  every  thing,  as  it  passes  in  its 
own  ideal  world,  and  rarely  as  it  exists  in  the  me- 
diocrity of  reality.  This  irritability  of  genius  is 
a  malady  which  has  raged  even  among  philoso- 
phers :  we  must  not,  therefore,  be  surprised  at  the 
poetical  temperament.  They  have  abandoned 


OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS.  89 

their  country,  they  have  changed  their  name, 
they  have  punished  themselves  with  exile  in  the 
rage  of  their  disorder.  Descartes  sought  in  vain, 
even  in  his  secreted  life,  a  refuge  for  his  renius  ; 
he  thought  himself  persecuted  in  France,  he 
thought  himself  calumniated  among  strangers, 
and  he  went  and  died  in  Sweden ;  and  little  did 
that  man  of  genius  think,  that  his  countrymen 
would  beg  to  have  his  ashes  restored  to  them. 
Hume  once  proposed  to  change  his  name  and  his 
country,  and  I  believe  did.  The  great  poetical 
genius  of  our  times  has  openly  alienated  him- 
self from  the  land  of  his  brothers;  he  becomes 
immortal  in  the  language  of  a  people  whom  he 
would  contemn;  he  accepts  with  ingratitude 
the  fame  he  loves  more  than  life,  and  he  is  only 
truly  great  on  that  spot  of  earth,  whose  genius, 
when  he  is  no  more,  will  contemplate  on  his 
shade  in  anger  and  in  sorrow. 

Thus,  the  state  of  authorship  is  not  friendly 
to  equality  of  temper;  and  in  those  various 
humours  incidental  to  it,  when  authors  are  often 
affected  deeply,  while  the  cause  escapes  all  per- 
ception of  sympathy,  at  those  moments  the  light- 
est injury  to  the  feelings,  which  at  another  time 
would  make  no  impression,  may  produce  even 
fury  in  the  warm  temper,  or  the  corroding 
H  2 


90  OF  THE  IRRITABILITY  OF  GENIUS. 

chagrin  of  a  self-wounded  spirit.  These  are 
moments  which  claim  the  tenderness  of  friend- 
ship, animated  by  a  high  esteem  for  the  in- 
tellectual excellence  of  this  man  of  genius, — 
not  the  general  intercourse  of  society, — not  the 
insensibility  of  the  dull,  nor  the  levity  of  the 
volatile. 

Men  of  genius  are  often  reverenced  only 
where  they  are  known  by  their  writings;  in- 
tellectual beings  in  the  romance  of  life, — in  its 
history,  they  are  men  !  Erasmus  compared  them 
to  the  great  figures  in  tapestry-work,  which  lose 
their  effect  when  not  seen  at  a  distance.  Their 
foibles  and  their  infirmities  are  obvious  to  their 
associates,  often  only  capable  of  discerning  these 
qualities.  The  defects  of  great  men  are  the 
consolation  of  the  dunces. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE   AND  THE 
SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY. 


WHEN  a  general  intercourse  in  society  prevails, 
the  age  of  great  genius  has  passed ;  an  equality 
of  talents  rages  among  a  multitude  of  authors  and 
artists ;  they  have  extended  the  superficies  of 
genius,  but  have  lost  the  intensity ;  the  contest 
'  is  more  furious,  but  victory  is  more  rare.  The 
founders  of  National  Literature  and  Art  pursued 
their  insulated  studies  in  the  full  independence 
of  their  mind  and  the  development  of  their  in- 
ventive faculty.  The  master-spirits  who  create 
an  epoch,  the  inventors,  lived  at  periods  when 
they  inherited  nothing  from  their  predecessors ; 
in  seclusion  they  stood  apart,  the  solitary  lights  of 
their  age. 

At  length,  when  a  people  have  emerged  to 
glory,  and  a  silent  revolution  has  obtained,  by 


92  THE  SPIRIT  OP  LITERATURE 

a  more  uniform  light  of  knowledge  coming  from 
all  sides,  the  genius  of  society  becomes  greater 
than  the  genius  of  the  individual:  hence,  the 
character  of  genius  itself  becomes  subordi- 
nate. A  conversation  age  succeeds  a  studious 
one,  and  the  family  of  genius  are  no  longer 
recluses. 

The  man  of  genius  is  now  trammelled  with 
the  artificial  and  mechanical  forms  of  life  ;  and 
in  too  close  an  intercourse  with  society,  the  lone- 
liness and  raciness  of  thinking  is  modified  away 
in  its  seductive  conventions.  An  excessive 
indulgence  in  the  pleasures  of  social  life  con- 
stitutes the  great  interests  of  a  luxurious  and 
opulent  age. 

It  may  be  a  question,  whether  the  literary 
man  and  the  artist  are  not  immolating  their 
genius  to  society,  when,  with  the  mockery  of 
Proteus,  they  lose  their  own  by  all  orms,  in 
the  shadowiness  of  assumed  talent.  But  a 
path  of  roses,  where  all  the  senses  are  flatter- 
ed, is  now  opened  to  win  an  Epictetus  from 
his  hut.  The  morning  lounge,  the  luxurious 
dinner,  and  the  evening  party  are  the  regu- 
lated dissipations  of  hours  which  true  genius 
knows  are  always  too  short  for  Art,  and  too 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY.  93 

rare  for  its  inspirations ;  and  hence  so  many 
of  our  contemporaries,  whose  card-racks  are 
crowded,  have  produced  only  flashy  fragments, 
— efforts,  and  not  works.  It  is  seduction,  and 
not  reward,  which  mere  fashionable  society 
offers  the  man  of  true  genius,  for  he  must 
be  distinguished  from  those  men  of  the  world, 
who  have  assumed  the  literary  character,  for 
purposes  very  distinct  from  literary  ones.  In 
this  society,  the  man  of  genius  shall  cease  to 
interest,  whatever  be  his  talent;  he  will  be 
sought  for  with  euthuoiacm,  but  he  cannot 
escape  from  his  certain  fate, — that  of  becom- 
ing tiresome  to  his  pretended  admirers.  The 
confidential  confession  of  Racine  to  his  son  is 
remarkable.  "  Do  not  think  that  I  am  sought 
after  by  the  great  for  my  dramas  ;  Corneille 
composes  nobler  verses  than  mine,  but  no  one 
notices  him,  and  he  only  pleases  by  the  mouth  of 
the  actors.  I  never  allude  to  my  works  when 
with  men  of  the  world,  but  I  amuse  them  about 
matters  they  like  to  hear.  My  talent  with  them 
consists  not  in  making  them  feel  that  I  have 
any,  but  in  showing  them  that  they  have  " — 
Racine  treated  the  Great,  like  the  children  of 
society ;  Corneille  would  not  compromise  for 
the  tribute  he  exacted  \  and  consoled  himself 


94  THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

when,  at  his  entrance  into    the  theatre,  the  au- 
dience  usually  rose  to  salute   him. 

Has  not  the  fate  of  our  reigning  literary 
favourites  been  uniform  ?  Their  mayoralty 
hardly  exceeds  the  year.  They  are  pushed 
aside  to  put  in  their  place  another,  who  in  his 
turn  must  descend.  Such  is  the  history  of  the 
literary  character  encountering  the  perpetual 
difficulty  of  appearing  what  he  really  is  not, 
while  he  sacrifices  to  a  few,  in  a  certain  comer 
of  the  metropolis,  who  have  long  fantastically 
called  themselves  "  The  World,"  that  more  dig- 
nified celebrity  which  makes  an  author's  name 
more  familiar  than  his  person.  To  one  who 
appeared  astonished  at  the  extensive  celebrity 
of  Buffon,  the  modern  Pliny  replied,  "  I  have 
passed  fifty  years  at  my  desk."  And  has  not 
one,  the  most  sublime  of  the  race,  sung — 


-che  seggendo  in  piuma 


In  Fama  non  si  vien.  ne  sotto  coltre ; 
Sanza  la  qua!  chi  sua  vita  ronsuma 
Cotal  vestigio  in  terra  di  se  lascia 
Qual  fumrao  in  acre,  ed  in  acqua  la  schiuma. 

Dante,  Inferno,  c.  xxiv.* 

*  "  Not  by  reposing  on  pillows  or  under  canopies,  is  Fame 
acquired,  without  which  he,  who  consumes  his  life,  leaves 
such  an  unregarded  vestige  on  the  earth  of  his  being,  as  the 
emoke  in  the  air  or  the  foam  on  the  wave." 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY.  95 

Another,  who  had  great  experience  of  the 
world  and  of  literature,*  observes,  that  literary 
men  (and  artists)  seek  an  intercourse  with  the 
great  from  a  refinement  of  self-love  ;  they  are 
perpetually  wanting  a  confirmation  of  their  own 
talents  in  the  opinions  of  others,  (for  their 
rivals  are,  at  all  times,  very  cruelly  and  very 
adroitly  diminishing  their  reputation  ;)  for  this 
purpose,  they  require  judges  sufficiently  en- 
lightened to  appreciate  their  talents,  but  who  do 
not  exercise  too  penetrating  a  judgment.  Now 
this  is  exactly  the  state  of  the  generality  of  the 
great,  (or  persons  of  fashion,)  who  cultivate 
taste  and  literature  ;  these  have  only  time  to  ac- 
quire that  degree  of  light  which  is  just  sufficient 
to  set  at  ease  the  fears  of  these  claimants  of 
genius.  Their  eager  vanity  is  more  voracious 
than  delicate,  and  is  willing  to  accept  an  in- 
cense less  durable  than  ambrosia. 

The  habitudes  of  genius,  before  it  lost  its 
freshness  in  this  society,  are  the  mould  in  which 
the  character  is  cast;  and  these,  in  spite  of  all 
the  disguise  of  the  man,  hereafter  make  him  a 
distinct  being  from  the  man  of  society.  There 

*  D'Ale^bercr  la  Societe  des  Gens  de  Lettres  et  des  Grands. 


96  THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

is  something  solitary  in  deep  feelings ;  and  the 
am  users  who  can  only  dazzle  and  surprize,  will 
never  spread  that  contagious  energy  only  spring- 
ing from  the  fullness  of  the  heart.  Let  the  man 
of  genius  then  dread  to  level  himself  to  that 
mediocrity  of  feeling  and  talent  required  in 
every-day  society,  lest  he  become  one  of  them- 
selves. Ridicule  is  the  shadowy  scourge  of 
society,  and  the  terror  of  the  man  of  genius ; 
Ridicule  surrounds  him  with  her  chimeras,  like 
the  shadowy  monsters  which  opposed  -32neas, 
too  impalpable  to  be  grasped,  while  the  airy 
nothings  triumph,  unwounded  by  a  weapon. — 
.SSneas  was  told  to  pass  the  grinning  monsters 
unnoticed,  and  they  would  then  be  as  harmless, 
as  they  were  unreal. 

Study,  Meditation,  and  Enthusiasm, — this  is 
the  progress  of  genius,  and  these  cannot  be  the 
habits  of  him  who  lingers  till  he  can  only  live 
among  polished  crowds.  If  he  bears  about  him 
the  consciousness  of  genius,  he  will  be  still  act- 
ing under  their  influences.  And  perhaps  there 
never  was  one  of  this  class  of  men  who  had  not 
either  first  entirely  formed  himself  in  solitude, 
or  amidst  society  is  perpetually  breaking  out 
to  seek  for  himself.  Wilkes,  who,  when  no 
longer  touched  by  the  fervours  of  literary  and 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETTf.  97 

patriotic  glory,  grovelled  into  a  domestic  volup- 
tuary, observed  with  some  surprize  of  the  great 
Earl  of  Chatham,  that  he  sacrificed  every  plea- 
sure of  social  life,  even  in  youth,  to  his  great 
pursuit  of  eloquence  ;  and  the  Earl  himself  ac- 
knowledged an  artifice  he  practised  in  nis  inter- 
course with  society,  for  he  said,  when  he  was 
young  he  always  came  late  into  company,  and 
left  it  early.  Vittorio  Alfieri,  and  a  brother- 
spirit  in  our  own  noble  poet,  were  rarely  seen 
amidst  the  brilliant  circle  in  which  they  were 
born ;  the  workings  of  their  imagination  were 
perpetually  emancipating  them,  and  one  deep 
loneliness  of  feeling  proudly  insulated  them 
among  the  unimpassioned  triflers  of  their  rank. 
They  preserved  unbroken  the  unity  of  their  cha- 
racter, in  constantly  escaping  from  the  proces- 
sional spectacle  of  society,  by  frequent  intervals 
of  retirement.  It  is  no  trivial  observation  of 
another  noble  writer,  Lord  Shaftesbury,  that 
*J  it  may  happen  that  a  person  may  be  so  much 
the  worse  author,  for  being  the  finer  gentleman." 

An  extraordinary  instance  of  this  disagree- 
ment between  the  man  of  the  world  and  the 
literary  character,  we  find  in  a  philosopher 
seated  on  a  throne.  The  celebrated  Julian 
stained  the  imperial  purple  with  an  author^ 


98  THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

ink ;  and  when  that  Emperor  resided  among  the 
Antiochians,  his  unalterable  character  shocked 
that  volatile  and  luxurious  race ;  he  slighted  the 
plaudits  of  their  theatre,  he  abhorred  their 
dancers  and  their  horse-racers,  he  was  abstinent 
even  at  a  festival,  and  perpetually  incorrupt, 
admonished  this  dissipated  people  of  their  im- 
pious abandonment  of  the  laws  of  their  country. 
They  libelled  the  Emperor  and  petulantly  lam- 
pooned his  beard,  which  the  philosopher  care- 
lessly wore,  neither  perfumed  nor  curled. — 
Julian,  scorning  to  inflict  a  sharper  punishment, 
pointed  at  them  his  satire  of  "  the  Misopogon, 
or  the  Antiochian ;  the  Enemy  of  the  Beard," 
where  amidst  the  irony  and  invective,  the  lite- 
rary monarch  bestows  on  himself  many  exqui- 
site and  individual  touches.  All  that  those 
persons  of  fashion  alleged  against  the  literary 
character,  Julian  unreservedly  confesses — his^  un- 
dressed beard  and  his  awkwardnesses,  his  obsti- 
nacy, his  unsociable  habits,  his  deficient  tastes, 
&c.,  while  he  represents  his  good  qualities  as  so 
many  extravagancies.  But,  in  this  pleasantry 
of  self-reprehension,  he  has  not  failed  to  show 
this  light  and  corrupt  people  that  he  could  not 
possibly  resemble  them.  The  unhappiness  of 
too  strict  an  education  under  a  family  tutor, 
who  never  suffered  him  to  swerve  from  the  one 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY.  99 

right  way,  with  the  unlucky  circumstance  of 
his  master  having  inspired  Julian  with  such  a 
reverence  for  Plato  and  Socrates,  Aristotle  and 
Theophrastus,  as  to  have  made  they  his  models; 
"  Whatever  manners,"  says  the  Emperor,  "  I 
may  have  previously  contracted,  whether  gentle 
or  boorish,  it  is  impossible  for  me  now  to  alter  or 
unlearn.  Habit  is  said  to  be  a  second  nature ; 
to  oppose  it  is  irksome,  but  to  counteract  the 
study  of  more  than  thirty  years  is  extremely  diffi- 
cult, especially  when  it  has  been  imbibed  with  so 
much  attention." 

And  what  if  men  of  genius,  relinquishing  their 
habits,  could  do  this  violence  to  their  nature, 
should  we  not  lose  the  original  for  a  factitious 
genius,  and  spoil  one  race  without  improving 
the  other?  If  nature,  and  habit,  that  second 
nature  which  prevails  even  over  the  first,  have 
created  two  beings  distinctly  different,  what 
mode  of  existence  shall  ever  assimilate  them  ? 
Antipathies  and  sympathies,  those  still  occult 
causes,  however  concealed,  will  break  forth  at 
an  unguarded  moment.  The  man  of  genius 
will  be  restive  even  in  his  trammelled  paces.  Clip 
the  wings  of  an  eagle  and  place  him  to  roost 
among  the  domestic  poultry ;  will  be  peck  with 
them  ?  will  he  chuck  like  them  ?  At  some  un- 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

foreseen  moment  his  pinions  will  overshadow  and 
terrify  his  tiny  associates,  for  "the  feathered 
king"  will  be  still  musing  on  the  rock  and  the 
cloud. 

Thus  is  it,  as  our  literary  Emperor  discovered, 
that  "  we  cannot  counteract  the  study  of  more 
than  thirty  years,  when  it  has  been  imbibed  with 
so  much  attention."  Men  of  genius  are  usually 
not  practised  in  the  minuter  attentions ;  in  those 
heartless  courtesies,  poor  substitutes  for  generous 
feelings ;  they  have  rarely  sacrificed  to  the  un- 
laughing  graces  of  Lord  Chesterfield.  Plato  in- 
geniously compares  Socrates  to  the  gallipots  of 
the  Athenian  apothecaries,  which  were  painted 
on  the  exterior  with  the  grotesque  figures  of 
apes  and  owls,  but  contained  within  a  precious 
balm.  The  man  of  genius  may  exclaim  amidst 
many  a  circle,  as  did  Thernistocles,  wh£n  asked 
to  play  on  a  lute — "  I  cannot  fiddle,  but  I  can 
make  a  little  village  a  great  city;"  and  with 
Corneille  he  may  be  allowed  to  smile  at  his  own 
deficiencies,  and  even  disdain  to  please  in  trivials, 
asserting  that,  "  wanting  all  these  things,  he 
was  not  the  less  Corneille."  With  the  great 
thinkers  and  students,  their  character  is  still  more 
hopeless.  Adam  Smith  could  never  free  him- 
self from  the  embarrassed  manners  of  a  recluse  j 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY.  JQ1 

he  was  often  absent ;  and  his  grave  and  formal 
conversation  made  him  seem  distant  and  reserv- 
ed, when,  in  fact,  no  man  had  warmer  feelings 
for  his  intimates.  Buffon's  conversation  was 
very  indifferent — and  the  most  eloquent  writer 
was  then  coarse  and  careless ;  after  each  labori- 
ous day  of  study,  he  pleaded  that  conversation 
was  to  him  only  a  relaxation.  Rousseau  gave  no 
indication  of  his  energetic  style  in  conversation. 
A.  princess,  desirous  of  seeing  the  great  moralist 
Nicolle,  experienced  inconceivable  disappoint- 
ment, when  the  moral  instructor,  entering  with 
the  most  perplexing  bow  imaginable,  sank  down 
silently  on  his  chair;  the  interview  promoted 
no  conversation ;  and  the  retired  student,  whose 
elevated  spirit  might  have  endured  martyrdom, 
sank  with  timidity  in  the  unaccustomed  honour 
of  conversing  with  a  princess,  and  having  nothing 
to  say.  A  lively  Frenchman,  in  a  very  inge- 
nious description  of  the  distinct  sorts  of  conver- 
sations of  his  numerous  literary  friends,  among 
whom  was  Dr.  Franklin,  energetically  hits  off 
that  close  observer  and  thinker,  wary  even  in 
society ;  among  these  varieties  of  conversation 
he  has  noted  down  "  the  silence  of  the  celebrat- 
ed Franklin."  When  Lord  Oxford  desired  to 
be  introduced  to  the  studious  Thomas  Baker,  he 
very  unaffectedly  declined,  in  a  letter  I  have 
i  2 


]02  THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

seen,  that  honour,  "  as  a  rash  adventure  he  could 
not  think  of  engaging  in,  not  having  fitted  him- 
self for  any  conversation,  but  with  the  dead." 

But  this  deficient  agrceableness  in  a  man  of 
genius  may  be  often  connected  with  those  quali- 
ties which  conduce  to  the  greatness  of  his  public 
character.  A  vivid  perception  of  truth  on  the 
sudden,  bursts  with  an  irruptive  heat  on  the  sub- 
dued tone  of  conversation  ;  should  he  hesitate, 
that  he  may  correct  an  equivocal  expression,  or 
grasp  at  a  remote  idea,  he  is  in  danger  of  sinking 
into  pedantry  or  rising  to  genius.  Even  the  te- 
diousness  he  bestows  on  us,  may  well  out  from 
the  fulness  of  knowledge,  or  be  hammered  into  a 
hard  chain  of  reasoning  ;  and  how  often  is  the 
cold  tardiness  of  decision,  the  strict  balancings  of 
scepticism  and  candour !  even  obscurity  may 
arise  from  the  want  of  previous  knowledge  in  the 
listener.  But  above  all,  what  offends  is  that 
freedom  of  opinion,  which  a  man  of  genius  can 
no  more  divest  himself  of  than  of  the  features  of 
bis  face  ;  that  intractable  obstinacy  which  may 
be  called  resistance  of  character — a  rock  which 
checks  the  flowing  stream  of  popular  opinions, 
and  divides  them  by  the  collision.  Poor  Burns 
could  never  account  to  himself  why,  "  though 
when  he  had  a  mind  he  was  pretty  generally  be- 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OP  SOCIETY.  1Q3 

loved,  he  could  never  get  the  art  of  commanding 
respect."  He  imagined  it  was  owing  to  his 
being  deficient  in  what  Sterne  calls  "  that  under- 
strapping  virtue  of  discretion."  "  I  am  so  apt," 
he  says,  "  to  a  lapsus  linguce." 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  conversationists  have 
rarely  proved  themselves  to  be  the  abler  writers. 
He  whose  fancy  is  susceptible  of  excitement,  in 
the  presence  of  his  auditors,  making  the  minds  of 
men  run  with  his  own,  seizing  on  the  first  impres- 
sions, and  touching,  as  if  he  really  felt  them,  the 
shadows  and  outlines  of  things — with  a  memory 
where  all  lies  ready  at  hand,  quickened  by  habit- 
ual associations,  and  varying  with  all  those  ex- 
temporary changes  and  fugitive  colours,  which 
melt  away  in  the  rainbow  of  conversation ;  that 
jargon,  or  vocabulary  of  fashion,  those  terms  and 
phrases  of  the  week  perpetually  to  be  learnt ; 
that  wit,  which  is  only  wit  in  one  place,  and  for 
a  certain  time ;  such  vivacity  of  animal  spirits, 
which  often  exists  separately  from  the  more 
retired  intellectual  powers  ;  all  these  can  strike 
out  wit  by  habit,  and  pour  forth  a  stream  of 
phrase  that  has  sometimes  been  imagined  to 
require  only  to  be  written  down,  to  be  read 
with  the  same  delight  it  was  heard ;  we  have 
not  all  the  while  been  sensible  of  the  flutter 


104  THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

of  their  ideas,  the  violence  of  their  transitions, 
their  vague  notions,  their  doubtful  assertions, 
and  their  meagre  knowledge — a  pen  is  the  ex- 
tinguisher of  these  luminaries.  A  curious  con- 
trast occurred  between  Buffon  and  his  friend 
Montbelliard,  who  was  associated  in  his  great 
work ;  the  one  possessed  the  reverse  qualities 
of  the  other.  Montbelliard  threw  every  charm 
of  animation  over  his  delightful  conversation, 
but  when  he  came  to  take  his  seat  at  the  rival 
desk  of  Buffon,  an  immense  interval  separated 
them ;  his  tongue  distilled  the  music  and 
the  honey  of  the  bee,  but  his  pen  seemed  to  be 
iron,  as  cold  and  as  hard,  while  Buffon's  was  the 
soft  pencil  of  the  philosophical  painter  of  nature. 
The  characters  of  Cowly  and  Killegrew  are  an 
instance.  Cowly  was  embarrassed  in  conversa- 
tion, and  had  not  quickness  in  argument  or  re- 
partee ;  pensive  elegance  and  refined  combi- 
nations could  not  be  struck  at  to  catch  fire  ; 
while  with  Killegrew  the  sparkling  bubbles  of 
his  fancy  rose  and  dropped ;  yet  when  this 
delightful  conversationist  wrote,  the  deception 
ceased.  Denham,  who  knew  them  both,  hit 
off  the  difference  between  them  ; — 

t(  Had  Cowly  ne'er  spoke  ;  Killegrew  ne'er  writ, 
Combined  in  one,  they  had  made  a  matchless  wit." 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY.  195 

Thought  and  expression  are  only  found  easily 
when  they  lie  on  the  surface;  the  operations 
of  the  intellect  with  some,  are  slow  and  deep. 
Hence  it  is  that  slow-minded  men  are  not,  as 
men  of  the  world  imagine,  always  the  dullest. 
Nicolle  said  of  a  scintillant  wit,  "  He  conquers 
me  in  the  drawing-room3  but  he  surrenders  to  me 
at  discretion  on  the  staircase."  Many  a  great 
wit  has  thought  the  wit  which  he  never  spoke, 
and  many  a  great  reasoner  has  perplexed  his  lis- 
teners. The  conversation-powers  of  some  re- 
semble the  show-glass  of  the  fashionable  trader  ; 
all  his  moderate  capital  is  there  spread  out  in 
the  last  novelties  ;  the  magasin  within  is  neither 
rich  nor  rare.  Chaucer  was  more  facetious  in 
his  Tales,  than  in  his  conversation,  for  the  Count- 
ess of  Pembroke  used  to  rally  him,  observing 
that  his  silence  was  more  agreeable  to  her  than 
his  conversation.  Tasso's  conversation,  which 
his  friend  Manso  has  attempted  to  preserve  to 
us,  was  neither  gay  nor  brilliant  ;  and  Goldoni, 
in  his  drama  of  Torquato  Tasso,  has  thus  con- 
trasted the  poet's  writings  and  conversation  ;  — 

Ammiro  il  suo  talento,  gradisco  i  carmi  suoi  ; 
Ma  piacer  non  trovo  a  conversar  con  lui. 


106  THE  SPIRIT  OF    LITERATURE 

The  sublime  Dante  was  taciturn  or  satirical ; 
Butler  was  sullen  or  biting;  Descartes,  whose 
habits  had  formed  him  for  solitude  and  medita- 
tion, was  silent.  Addison  and  Moliere  were  only 
observers  in  society ;  and  Dryden  has  very  ho- 
nestly told  us,  "my  conversation  is  slow  and 
dull ;  my  humour  saturnine  and  reserved ;  in 
short  I  am  none  of  those  who  endeavour  to 
break  jests  in  company,  or  make  repartees."  It 
was  ingeniously  said  of  Vaucanson,  that  he  was 
as  much  a  machine  as  any  he  made.  Hogarth 
and  Swift,  who  looked  on  the  circles  of  society 
with  eyes  of  inspiration,  were  absent  in  compa- 
ny ;  but  their  grossness  and  asperity  did  not  pre- 
vent the  one  from  being  the  greatest  of  comic 
painters,  nor  the  other  as  much  a  creator  of  man- 
ners in  his  way.  Genius  even  in  society  is  pur- 
suing its  own  operations ;  but  it  would  cease  to 
be  itself,  in  becoming  another. 

One  peculiar  trait  in  the  conversations  of  men 
of  genius,  which  has  often  injured  them  when 
the  listeners  were  not  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  man,  are  certain  sports  of  a  vacant  mind ; 
a  sudden  impulse  to  throw  out  opinions,  and 
take  views  of  things  in  some  humour  of  the  mo- 
ment. Extravagant  paradoxes  and  false  opi- 
nions are  caught  up  by  the  humbler  prosers ;  and 
the  Philistines  are  thus  enabled  to  triumph  over 


AND  THE  SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY.  1Q7 

the  strong  and  gifted  man,  because  in  the  hour 
of  confidence  and  in  the  abandonment  of  the 
mind,  he  laid  his  head  in  their  lap  and  taught 
them  how  he  might  be  shorn  of  his  strength. 
Dr.  Johnson  appears  often  to  have  indulged  this 
amusement  in  good  and  in  ill  humour.  Even 
such  a  calm  philosopher  as  Adam  Smith,  as  well 
as  such  a  child  of  imagination  as  Burns,  were 
remarked  for  this  ordinary  habit  of  men  of  ge- 
nius, which  perhaps  as  often  originates  in  a  gen- 
tle feeling  of  contempt  for  their  auditors,  as  from 
any  other  cause. 

Not  however  that  a  man  of  genius  does  not 
utter  many  startling  things  in  conversation  which 
have  been  found  admirable,  ^when  the  public 
perused  them.  How  widely  the  public  often 
differ  from  the  individual !  a  century's  opinion 
may  intervene  between  them.  The  fate  of 
genius  resembles  that  of  the  Athenian  sculptor, 
who  submitted  his  colossal  Minerva  to  a  pri- 
vate party ;  before  the  artist  they  trembled  for 
his  daring  chissel,  and  behind  him  they  calum- 
niated. The  man  of  genius  smiled  at  the  one, 
and  forgave  the  other.  The  statue  once  fixed 
in  a  public  place,  and  seen  by  the  whole  city, 
was  the  divinity.  There  is  a  certain  distance 
at  which  opinions,  as  well  as  statues,  must  be 
viewed. 


108  THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE 

But  enough  of  those  defects  of  men  of  genius^ 
which  often  attend  their  conversations.  Must 
we  then  bow  to  authorial  dignity,  and  kiss  hands, 
because  they  are  inked ;  and  to  the  artist,  who 
thinks  us  as  nothing  unless  we  are  canvass  under 
his  hands?  are  there  not  men  of  genius,  the  grace 
of  society  ?  fortunate  men  !  more  blest  than  their 
brothers ;  but  for  this,  they  are  not  the  more  men 
of  genius,  nor  the  others  less.  To  how  many 
of  the  ordinary  intimates  of  a  superior  genius, 
who  complain  of  his  defects,  might  one  say, 
u  Do  his  productions  not  delight  and  sometimes 
surprise  you  ? — You  are  silent — I  beg  your  par- 
don ;  the  public  has  informed  you  of  a  great 
name  ;  you  would  not  otherwise  have  perceived 
the  precious  talent  of  your  neighbour.  You 
know  little  of  your  friend  but  his  name"  The 
personal  familiarity  of  ordinary  minds  with  a 
man  of  genius  has  often  produced  a  ludicrous 
prejudice.  A  Scotchman,  to  whom  the  name  of 
a  Dr.  Robertson  had  travelled  down,  was  curious 
to  know  who  he  was  ?  "Your  neighbour!"  but 
he  could  not  persuade  himself  that  the  man 
whom  he  conversed  with  was  the  great  histo- 
rian of  his  country.  Even  a  good  man  could 
not  believe  in  the  anneuncement  of  the  Messiah, 
from  the  same  sort  of  prejudice,  "  Can  there 


AND  THE    SPIRIT  OF  SOCIETY. 

any  thing  good   come   out   of  Nazareth  ?"  said 
Nathaniel. 

Suffer  a  man  of  genius  to  be  such  as  nature 
and  habit  have  formed  him,  and  he  will  then  be 
the  most  interesting  companion ;  then  will  you 
see  nothing  but  his  mighty  mind  when  it  opens 
itself  on  you.     Barry  was  the  most  repulsive  of 
men  in  his  exterior,  in  the  roughness  of  his  lan- 
guage and  the  wildness  of  his  looks ;  interming- 
ling vulgar  oaths,  which,  by  some  unlucky  associa- 
tion of  habit,  he  seemed  to  use  as  strong  expletives 
and  notes  of  admiration.     His  conversation  has 
communicated  even  a  horror  to  some  :  on  one  of 
these  occasions,  a  pious  lady,  who  had  felt  such 
intolerable  uneasiness  in   his  presence,  did  not 
however  leave  this  man  of  genius  that  evening, 
without  an  impression  that  she  had  never  heard 
so  divine  a  man  in  her  life.     The   conversation 
happening  to  turn  on  that  principle  of  Benevo-^ 
lence  which  pervades  Christianity  and  the  meek-  "' 
ness  of  the  Founder,  it  gave  Barry  an  opportu-  - 
nity  of  opening  on  the  character  of  Jesus,  with 
that  copiousness  of  heart  and  mind,  which  once 
heard    could  never  be    forgotten.     That   artist 
had   indeed  long   in  his   meditations,    an  ideal 
head  of  Christ,  which  he  was  always  talking  to 
execute ;  "  It  is  here !"  he  would  cry,  striking 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  LITERATURE,  fcc. 

his  head.  What  baffled  the  invention,  as  we  are 
told,  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  who  left  his  Christ 
headless,  having  exhausted  his  creative  faculty 
among  the  apostles,  Barry  was  still  dreaming  on ; 
hut  this  mysterious  mixture  of  a  human  and  ce- 
lestial nature  could  only  be  conceived  by  his 
mind,  and  even  the  catholic  enthusiasm  of  Bar- 
ry was  compelled  to  refrain  from  unveiling  it 
to  the  eye, — but  this  unpainted  picture  was 
perpetually  exciting  this  artist's  emotions  in  con- 
versation. 

Few  authors  and  artists  but  are  eloquently 
instructive  on  that  sort  of  knowledge  or  that 
department  of  art  which  has  absorbed  all  their 
affections ;  their  conversations  affect  the  mind  to 
a  distant  period  of  life.  Who  has  forgotten  what 
a  man  of  genius  has  said  at  such  moments  ?  the 
man  of  genius  becomes  an  exquisite  instrument, 
when  the  hand  of  the  performer  knows  to  call 
forth  the  rich  confluence  of  the  sounds  ;  and — 

"  The  flying  fingers  touch  into  a  voice." 


(Ill ) 


CHAPTER  VI. 


LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 


JL  HE  literary  character  is  reproached  with  ai* 
extreme  passion  for  retirement,  cultivating  those 
insulating  habits  which  are  great  interruptions, 
and  even  weakeners  of  domestic  happiness, 
while  in  public  life  these  often  induce  to  a 
succession  from  its  cares,  thus  eluding  its  active 
duties.  Yet  the  vacancies  of  retired  men  are 
eagerly  filled  by  so  many  unemployed  men  of 
the  world  more  happily  framed  for  its  business. 
We  do  not  hear  these  accusations  raised  against 
the  painter  who  wears  away  his  days  at  his 
easel,  and  the  musician  by  the  side  of  his  .instru- 
ment ;  and  much  less  should  we  against  the  legal 
and  the  commercial  character ;  yet  all  these  are 
as  much  withdrawn  from  public  and  private  life 
as  the  literary  character ;  their  desk  is  as  insu- 
lating as  the  library.  Yet  is  the  man  who  is 
working  for  his  individual  interest  more  highly 
estimated  than  the  retired  student,  whose  disin- 


LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 


terested  pursuits  are  at  least  more  profitable  to 
the  world  than  to  himself.  La  Bruyere  discover- 
ed the  world's  erroneous  estimate  of  literary 
labour:  "There  requires  a  better  name  to  be 
bestowed  on  the  leisure  (the  idleness  he  calls  it) 
of  the  literary  character,  and  that  to  meditate,  to 
compose,  to  read  and  to  be  tranquil,  should  be 
called  working."  But  so  invisible  is  the  progress 
of  intellectual  pursuits,  and  so  rarely  are  the  ob- 
jects palpable  to  the  observers,  that  the  literary 
character  appears  denied  for  his  pursuits,  what 
cannot  be  refused  to  every  other.  That  unre- 
mitting application,  that  unbroken  series  of  their 
thoughts,  admired  in  every  profession,  is  only  com- 
plained of  in  that  one  whose  professors  with  so 
much  sincerity  mourn  over  the  shortness  of  life, 
which  has  often  closed  on  them  while  sketching 
their  works. 

It  is,  however,  only  in  solitude  that  the  genius 
of  eminent  men  has  been  formed  ;  there  their  first 
thoughts  sprang,  and  there  it  will  become  them 
to  find  their  last  :  for  the  solitude  of  old  age  — 
and  old  age  must  be  often  in  solitude  —  will  be 
found  the  happiest  with  the  literary  character. 
Solitude  is  the  nurse  of  enthusiasm,  and  enthu- 
siasm is  the  true  parent  of  genius  ;  in  all  ages  it 
has  been  called  for  —  it  has  been  flown  to.  No 


XITERARY  SOLITUDE.  113 

considerable  Tvork  was  ever  composed,  but  its 
author,  like  an  ancient  magician,  first  retired  to 
the  grove,  or  to  the  closet,  to  invocate.  When 
genius  languishes  in  an  irksome  solitude  among 
crowds,  that  is  the  moment  to  fly  into  seclusion 
and  meditation.  There  is  a  society  in  the  deepest 
solitude  ;  in  all  the  men  of  genius  of  the  past — 

"  First  of  your  kind;  Society  divine !" 

Thomson. 

and  in  themselves ;  for  there  only  they  can  in- 
d  ulge  in  the  romances  of  their  soul,  and  only  in 
solitude  can  they  occupy  themselves  in  their 
dreams  and  their  vigils,  and,  with  the  morning, 
fly  without  interruption  to  the  labour  they  had 
reluctantly  quitted.  This  desert  of  solitude,  so 
vast  and  so  dreary  to  the  man  of  the  world,  to  the 
man  of  genius  opens  the  magical  garden  of  Ar- 
mida,  whose  enchantments  arose  amidst  solitude, 
while  solitude  was  every  where  among  those  en- 
chantments. 

Whenever  Michael  Angelo  was  meditating  on 
some  great  design,  he  closed  himself  up  from  the 
world.  "  Why  do  you  lead  so  solitary  a  life  ?" 
asked  a  friend.  "  Art,"  replied  the  sublime  ar- 

K  2 


U4  LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 

list,  "  Art  is  a  jealous  god  ;  it  requires  the  whole 
and  entire  man." 

We  observe  men  of  genius,  in  public  situations-, 
sighing  for  this  solitude ;  amidst  the  impediments 
of  the  world,  and  their  situation  in  it,  they  are 
doomed  to  view  their  intellectual  banquet  often 
rising  before  them,  like  some  fairy  delusion, 
never  to  taste  it.  They  feel  that  finer  existence 
in  solitude.  Lord  Clarendon,  whose  life  so  hap- 
pily combined  the  contemplative  with  the  active 
powers  of  man,  dwells  on  three  periods  of  retire- 
ment which  he  enjoyed  ;  he  always  took  pleasure 
in  relating  the  great  tranquillity  of  spirit  experi- 
enced during  his  solitude  at  Jersey,  where  for 
more  than  two  years,  employed  on  his  History, 
he  daily  wrote  "  one  sheet  of  large  paper  with  his 
own  hand."  At  the  close  of  his  life,  his  literary 
labours  in  his  other  retirements  are  detailed  with 
a  proud  satisfaction.  Each  of  his  solitudes  occa- 
sioned a  new  acquisition  ;  this  the  Spanish,  that 
the  French,  and  a  third  the  Italian  literature. 
The  public  are  not  yet  acquainted  with  the  ferti- 
lity of  Lord  Clarendon's  literary  labours.  It  was 
not  vanity  that  induced  Scipio  to  declare  of  soli- 
tude, that  it  had  no  loneliness  to  him,  since  he 
voluntarily  retired  amidst  a  glorious  life  to  his 
Linternum.  Cicero  was  uneasy  amidst  applaud- 


LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 

ing  Rome,  and  has  distinguished  his  numerous 
works  by  the  titles  of  his  various  villas.  Aulus 
Gellius  marked  his  solitude  by  his  "  Attic  Nights." 
The  "  Golden  Grove"  of  Jeremy  Taylor  is  the 
produce  of  his  retreat  at  the  Earl  of  Carber- 
ry's  seat  in  Wales ;  and  the  "  Diversions  of  Pur- 
ley"  preserved  a  man  of  genius  for  posterity. 
Voltaire  had  talents,  and  perhaps  a  taste /or  socie- 
ty ;  but  at  one  period  of  his  life  he  passed  five 
years  in  the  most  secret  seclusion.  Montesquieu 
quitted  the  brilliant  circles  of  Paris  for  his  books, 
his  meditations,  and  his  immortal  work,  and  was 
ridiculed  by  the  gay  triflers  he  deserted.  Har- 
rington, to  compose  his  Oceana,  severed  himself 
from  the  society  of  his  friends.  Descartes,  in- 
flamed by  genius,  hires  an  obscure  house  in  an 
unfrequented  quarter  at  Paris,  and  there  he  passes 
two  years,  unknown  to  his  acquaintance.  Adam 
Smith,  after  the  publication  of  his  first  work, 
throws  himself  into  a  retirement  that  lasts  ten 
years  :  even  Hume  rallies  him  for  separating  him- 
self from  the  world  ;  but  by  this  means  the  great 
political  inquirer  satisfied  the  world  by  his  great 
work.  And  thus  it  was  with  men  of  genius,  long 
ere  Petrarch  withdrew  to  his  Val  chiusa. 

The  interruption  of  visitors  by  profession  has 
been  feelingly  lamented  by  men   of  letters. — 


LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 

The  mind,  maturing  its  speculations,  feels  the 
unexpected    conversation    of     cold    ceremony, 
chilling  as  the  blasts   of  March  winds  over  the 
blossoms  of  the  Spring.     Those  unhappy  beings 
who  wander  from  house  to  house,  privileged  by 
the  charter    of  society  to  obstruct  the  knowledge 
they  cannot    impart,  to  tire   because   they  are 
tired,  or   to   seek  amusement    at    the    cost    of 
others,  belong   to   that   class  of  society  which 
have  affixed  no  other  value  to  time  than   that  of 
getting  rid  of  it ;  these  are  judges  not  the  best 
qualified  to  comprehend  the  nature   and  evil  of 
their  depredations  in  the  silent  apartment  of  the 
studious.     "  We  are  afraid,"  said  some  of  those 
visitors  to  Baxter,  "  that  we  break  in  upon  your 
time." — To  be  sure  you  do,"  replied   the  dis- 
turbed  and  blunt  scholar.     Ursinus,  to   hint  as 
gently   as  he  could  to  his  ~  friends  that  he  was 
avaricious  of  time,  contrived  to  place  an  inscrip- 
tion over  the  door  of  his  study,  which  could  not 
fail  to  fix  their  eye,    intimating  that  whoever  re- 
mained there  must  join  in  his   labours.       The 
amiable   Melancthon,   incapable  of  a   harsh  ex- 
pression, when  he  received  these  idle  visits,  only 
noted  down  the  time  he  had  expended,  that  he 
might  reanimate  his  industry,  and  not  lose  a  day. 
The  literary  character   has  been  driven   to  the 
most  inventive  shifts  to  escape  the  irruption  of  a 


LITERARY  SOLITUDE.  U7 

formidable  party  at  a  single  rush,  who  enter  with- 
out "  besieging  or  beseeching,"  as  Milton  has  it. 
The  late  elegant,  poetical  Mr.  Ellis,  on  one  of 
these  occasions,  at  his  country-house,  showed  a 
literary  friend,  that  when  driven  to  the  last,  he 
usually  made  his  escape  by  a  leap  out  of  the  win- 
dow. Brand  Hollis  endeavoured  to  hold  out 
"  the  idea  of  singularity  as  a  shield ;"  and  the 
great  Robert  Boyle  was  compelled  to  advertise 
in  a  newspaper  that  he  must  decline  visits  on  cer- 
tain days,  that  he  might  have  leisure  to  finish  some 
of  his  works.* 

But  this  solitude,  at  first  a  necessity,  and 
then  a  pleasure,  at  length  is  not  borne  without 
repining.  To  tame  the  fervid  wildness  of  youth 
to  the  strict  regularities  of  study  is  a  sacrifice 
performed  by  the  votary ;  but  even  Milton  ap- 
pears to  have  felt  this  irksome  period  of  life  ; 
for  in  the  preface  to  Smectymnuus  he  says, 
"  It  is  but  justice  not  to  defraud  of  due  esteem 
the  wearisome  labours  and  studious  watchings 
wherein  I  have  spent  and  tired  out  almost  a 
whole  youth."  Cowley,  that  enthusiast  for  se- 
clusion, in  his  retirement  calls  himself  "  the  mel- 

*This  curious  advertisement  is  preserved  in  Dr.  Birch'* 
Life  «f  Boyle,  p.  272. 


HQ  LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 

ancholy  Cowley."  I  have  seen  an  original  letter 
of  this  poet  to  Evelyn,  where  he  expresses  his 
eagerness  to  see  Evelyn's  Essay  on  Solitude ;  for 
a  copy  of  which  he  had  sent  over  the  town,  with- 
out obtaining  one,  being  "  either  all  bought  up, 
or  burnt  in  the  fire  of  London."  I  am  the  more 
desirous,  he  says,  because  it  is  a  subject  in  which 
I  am  most  deeply  interested.  Thus  Cowley  was 
requiring  a  book  to  confirm  his  predilection,  and 
we  know  he  made  the  experiment,  which  did  not 
prove  a  happy  one.  We  find  even  Gibbon,  with 
all  his  fame  about  him,  anticipating  the  dread  he 
entertained  of  solitude  in  advanced  life.  "  I  feel, 
and  shall  continue  to  feel,  that  domestic  solitude, 
however  it  may  be  alleviated  by  the  world,  by 
study,  and  even  by  friendship,  is  a  comfortless 
state,  which  will  grow  more  painful  as  I  descend 
in  the  vale  of  years."  And  again — "  Your 
visit  has  only  served  to  remind  me  that  man, 
however  amused  or  occupied  in  his  closet,  was 
not  made  to  live  alone." 

Had  the  mistaken  notions  of  Sprat  not  de- 
prived us  of  Cowley's  correspondence,  we  doubt- 
less had  viewed  the  sorrows  of  lonely  genius 
touched  by  a  tender  pencil.  But  we  have 
Shenstone,  and  Gray,  and  Swift.  The  heart  of 
Shenstone  bleeds  in  the  dead  oblivion  of  solitude. 


LITERARY  SOLITUDE.  U9 

"  Now  I  am  come  from  a  visit,  every  little 
uneasiness  is  sufficient  to  introduce  my  whole 
train  of  melancholy  considerations,  and  to  make 
me  utterly  dissatisfied  with  the  life  I  now  lead, 
and  the  life  I  foresee  I  shall  lead,  I  am  angry 
and  envious,  and  dejected,  and  frantic,  and  dis- 
regard all  present  things,  as  becomes  a  madman 
to  do.  I  am  infinitely  pleased,  though  it  is  a 
gloomy  joy,  with  the  application  of  Dr.  Swift's 
complaint,  that  he  is  forced  to  die  in  a  rage, 
like  a  rat  in  a  poisoned  hole."  Let  the  lover  of 
solitude  muse  on  its  picture  throughout  the 
year,  in  this  stanza  by  the  same  amiable,  but 
suffering  poet- 
Tedious  again  to  curse  the  drizzling  day, 

Again  to  trace  the  wintry  tracks  of  snow, 
Or,  soothed  by  vernal  airs,  again  survey 

The  self-same  hawthorns  bud,  and  cowslips  blow. 

Swift's  letters  paint  with  terrifying  colours  a 
picture  of  solitude;  and  at  length  his  despair 
closed  with  idiotism.  Even  the  playful  muse 
of  Gresset  throws  a  sombre  querulousness  over 
the  solitude  of  men  of  genius — 

Je  les  vois,  Victiraes  du  Genie, 

Au  foible  prix  d'un  eclat  passager, 

Vivre  isoles,  sans  jouir  de  la  vie ! 

Vingt  ans  d'Ennuispour  quelques  jours  de  Gioire 


J20  LITERARY  SOLITUDE. 

Such  are  the  necessity,  the  pleasures,  and  the 
inconveniences  of  solitude !  Were  it  a  question, 
whether  men  of  genius  should  blend  with  the 
masses  of  society,  one  might  answer,  in  a  style 
rather  oracular,  but  intelligible  to  the  initiated — 
Men  of  genius !  live  in  solitude,  and  do  not  live 
in  solitude ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS. 


A  CONTINUITY  of  attention,  a  patient  quiet- 
ness of  mind,  forms  one  of  the  characteristic^  of 
genius. 

A  work  on  the  Art  of  Meditation  has  not  yet 
been  produced ;  it  might  prove  of  immense  ad- 
vantage to  him  who  never  happened  to  have 
more  than  one  solitary  idea.  The  pursuit  of  a 
single  principle  has  produced  a  great  work,  and 
a  loose  hint  has  conducted  to  a  new  discovery. 
But  while  in  every  manual  art,  every  great 
workman  improves  on  his  predecessor,  of  the 
art  of  the  mind,  notwithstanding  the  facility  of 
practice  and  our  incessant  experience,  millions 
are  yet  ignorant  of  the  first  rudiments ;  and  men 
of  genius  themselves  are  rarely  acquainted  with 
the  materials  they  are  working  on.  Johnson 
has  a  curious  observation  on  the  mind  itself,— 
he  thinks  it  obtains  a  stationary  point,  from 


™E  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS. 

whence  it  can  never  advance,  occurring  before 
the  middle  of  life.  He  says,  "  when  the  powers 
of  nature  have  attained  their  intended  energy, 
they  can  be  no  more  advanced.  The  shrub  can 
never  become  a  tree.  Nothing  then  remains  but 
practice  and  experience ;  and  perhaps  why  they  do 
so  little,  may  be  worth  inquiry."*  The  result  of 
this  inquiry  would  probably  lay  a  broader  founda- 
tion for  this  art  of  the  mind  than  we  have  hitherto 
possessed.  Ferguson  has  expressed  himself  with 
sublimity — "  The  lustre  which  man  casts  around 
him,  like  the  flame  of  a  meteor,  shines  only  while 
his  motion  continues ;  the  moments  of  rest  and 
of  obscurity  are  the  same."  What  is  this  art  of 
meditation,  but  the  power  of  withdrawing  our- 
selves from  the  world,  to  view  that  world  moving 
within  ourselves,  while  we  are  in  repose ;  as  the 
artist  by  an  optical  instrument  concentrates  the 
boundless  landscape  around  him,  and  patiently 
traces  all  nature  in  that  small  space. 

Certain  constituent  principles  of  the  mind  it- 
self, which  the  study  of  metaphysics  has  curiously 
discovered,  oflfer  many  important  regulations  in 
this  desirable  art.  We  may  even  suspect,  since 

*  I  recommend  the  reader  to  turn  to  the  whole  passage,  in 
Johnson's  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  vol.  i.p  296. 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS.  123 

men  of  genius  in  the  present  age  have  confided  to 
us  the  secrets  of  their  studies,  that  this  art  may 
be  carried  on  by  more  obvious  means,  and  even 
by  mechanical  contrivances,  and  practical  habits- 
There  is  a  government  of  our  thoughts;  and  many 
secrets  yet  remain  to  be  revealed  in  the  art  of  the 
mind ;  but  as  yet  they  consist  of  insulated  facts, 
from  which,  however,  may  hereafter  be  formed 
an  experimental  history.  Many  little  habits  may 
be  contracted  by  genius,  and  may  be  observed  in 
ourselves.  A  mind  well  organized  may  be  regu- 
lated by  a  single  contrivance  :  it  is  by  a  bit  of 
lead  that  we  are  enabled  to  track  the  flight  of 
time.  The  mind  of  genius  can  be  made  to  take 
a  particular  disposition,  or  train  of  ideas.  It  is  a 
remarkable  circumstance  in  the  studies  of  men  of 
genius,  that  previous  to  composition  they  have 
often  awakened  their  imagination  by  the  imagina- 
tion of  their  favourite  masters.  By  touching  a 
magnet  they  became  a  magnet.  A  circumstance 
has  been  recorded  of  Gray,  by  Mr.  Mathias,  "  as 
worthy  of  all  acceptation  among  the  higher  vota- 
ries of  the  divine  art,  when  they  are  assured  that 
Mr.  Gray  never  sate  down  to  compose  any  poetry 
without  previously,  and  for  a  considerable  time, 
reading  the  works  of  Spenser."  But  the  circum- 
stance was  not  unusual  with  Malherbe,  Corneille, 
and  Racine  ;  and  the  most  fervid  verses  of  Homer, 


J24  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENWS. 

and  the  most  tender  of  Euripides,  were  often  re- 
peated by  Milton.  Even  antiquity  exhibits  the 
same  exciting  intercourse  of  the  mind  of  genius. 
Cicero  informs  us  how  his  eloquence  caught 
inspiration  from  a  constant  study  of  the  Latin 
and  Grecian  poetry ;  and  it  has  been  recorded  of 
Pompey,  who  was  great  even  in  his  youth,  that 
he  never  undertook  any  considerable  enterprise, 
without  animating  his  genius  by  having  read  to 
him  the  character  of  Agamemnon  in  the  first 
Iliad ;  although  he  acknowledged  that  the  enthu- 
siasm he  caught  came  rather  from  the  poet  than 
the  hero.  When  Bossuet  had  to  compose  a 
funeral  oration,  he  was  accustomed  to  retire 
for  several  days  to  his  study,  to  ruminate  over 
the  pages  of  Homer;  and  when  asked  the  reason 
of  this  habit,  he  exclaimed,  in  these  lines, 

Magnam  mihi  mentem,  animunque 

Delius  inspiret  Vales- 
It  is  on  the  same  principle  of  pre-disposing 
the  mind,  that  many  have  first  generated  their 
feelings  in  the  symphonies  of  music.  Alfieri, 
often  before  he  wrote,  prepared  his  mind  by 
listening  to  music — a  circumstance  which  has 
been  recorded  of  others* 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS. 

We  are  scarcely  aware  how  we  may  govern 
our  thoughts  by  means  of  our  sensations.  De 
Luc  was  subject  to  violent  bursts  of  passion, 
but  he  calmed  the  interior  tumult  by  the  artifice 
of  filling  his  mouth  with  sweets  and  comfits. 
When  Goldoni  found  his  sleep  disturbed  by  the 
obtrusive  ideas  still  floating  from  the  studies  of 
the  day,  he  contrived  to  lull  himself  to  rest  by 
conning  in  his  mind  a  vocabulary  of  the  Vene- 
tian dialect,  translating  some  word  into  Tuscan 
and  French  ;  which  being  a  very  uninteresting 
occupation,  at  the  third  or  fourth  version  this 
recipe  never  failed.  This  was  an  art  of  with- 
drawing attention  from  the  greater  to  the  less 
emotion ;  where,  as  the  interest  weakened,  the 
excitement  ceased.  Mendelsohn,  whose  feeble 
and  too  sensitive  frame  was  often  reduced  to  the 
last  stage  of  suffering  by  intellectual  exertion, 
when  engaged  in  any  point  of  difficulty,  would 
in  an  instant  contrive  a  perfect  cessation  from 
thinking,  by  mechanically  going  to  the  window, 
and  counting  the  tiles  upon  the  roof  of  his  neigh- 
bour's house.  Facts  like  these  show  how  much 
art  may  be  concerned  in  the  management  of  the 
mind. 

Some  profound  thinkers  could  not  pursue  the 
operations  of  their  mind  in    the  distraction  of 
L  2 


|28  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS. 

light  and  noise.  JMallebranche,  Hobbes,  Tho- 
mas, and  others  closed  their  curtains  to  concen- 
trate their  thoughts,  as  Milton  says  of  the  mind, 
"in  the  spacious  circuits  of  her  musing."  The 
study  of  on  author  or  an  artist  would  be  ill 
placed  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  landscape ; 
the  Penseroso  of  Milton,  "  hid  from  day's  garish 
eye,"  is  the  man  of  genius.  A  secluded  and 
naked  apartment,  with  nothing  but  a  desk,  a 
chair,  and  a  single  sheet  of  paper,  was  for 
fifty  years  the  study  of  Buffon ;  the  single  orna- 
ment was  a  print  of  Newton  placed  before  hie 
eyes — nothing  broke  into  the  unity  of  his  rev- 
eries* 

The  arts  of  memory  have  at  all  times  excited 
the  attention  of  the  studious;  they  open  a 
world  of  undivulged  mysteries ;  every  one 
seems  to  form  some  discovery  of  his  own, 
but  which  rather  excites  his  astonishment  than 
enlarges  his  comprehension.  When  the  late 
William  Hutton,  a  man  of  an  origninal  cast  of 
mind,  as  an  experiment  in  memory,  opened  a 
book  which  he  had  divided  into  365  columns,  ac- 
cording to  the  days  of  the  year,  he  resolved  to  try 
to  recollect  an  anecdote,  as  insignificant  and  re- 
mote as  he  was  able,  rejecting  all  under  ten  years 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS'.  J27 

of  age ;  and  to  his  surprise,  he  filled  those  spa- 
ces for  small  reminiscencies,  within  ten  columns ; 
but  till  this  experiment  had  been  made,  he  never 
conceived  the  extent  of  this  faculty.  When 
we  reflect,  that  whatever  we  know,  and  what- 
ever we  feel,  are  the  very  smallest  portions  of 
all  the  knowledge  and  all  the  feelings  we  have 
been  acquiring  through  life,  how  desirable 
would  be  that  art,  which  should  open  again  the 
scenes  which  have  vanished,  revive  the  emotions 
which  other  impressions  have  effaced,  and  enrich 
our  thoughts,  with  thoughts  not  less  precious ; 
the  man  of  genius  who  shall  possess  this  art,  will 
not  satisfy  himself  with  the  knowledge  of  a  few 
mornings  and  its  transient  emotions,  writing  on 
the  moveable  sand  of  present  sensations,  present 
feelings,  which  alter  with  the  first  breezes  of 
public  opinion.  Memory  is  the  foundation  of 
genius ;  for  this  faculty,  with  men  of  genius,  is 
associated  with  imagination  and  passion,  it  is  a 
chronology  not  merely  of  events,  but  of  emo- 
tions ;  hence  they  remember  nothing  that  is  not 
interesting  to  their  feelings,  while  the  ordinary 
mind,  accurate  on  all  events  alike,  is  not  impas- 
s  ioned  on  any.  The  incidents  of  the  novelist, 
are  often  founded  on  the  common  ones  of  life; 
and  the  personages  so  admirably  alive  in  his 


\ 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF   GENIUS. 

fictions,  he  only  discovered  among  the  crowd. 
The  arts  of  memory  will  preserve  all  we  wish  ; 
they  form  a  saving  bank  of  genius,  to  which  it 
may  have  recourse,  as  a  wealth  which  it  can 
accumulate  unperceivably  amidst  the  ordinary 
expenditure.  Locke  taught  us  the  first  rudi- 
ments of  this  art,  when  he  showed  us  how  he 
stored  his  thoughts  and  his  facts,  by  an  artificial 
arrangement ;  and  Addison,  before  he  commen- 
ced his  Spectators,  had  amassed  three  folios  of 
materials  ;  but  the  higher  step  will  be  the  vol- 
ume which  shall  give  an  account  of  a  man  to 
himself,  where  a  single  observation,  a  chronicled 
emotion,  a  hope  or  a  project,  on  which  the  soul 
may  still  hang,  like  a  clew  of  past  knowledge 
in  his  hand,  will  restore  to  him  all  his  lost  stu- 
dies; his  evanescent  existence  again  enters  into 
his  life,  and  he  will  contemplate  on  himself  as 
an  entire  man :  to  preserve  the  past,  is  half  of 
immortality. 

The  memorials  of  Gibbon  and  Priestly  pre- 
sent us  with  the  experience  and  the  habits  of 
the  literary  Character.  "  What  I  have  known/5 
says  Dr.  Priestly,  "  with  respect  to  myself, 
has  tended  much  to  lessen  both  my  admiration 
and  niy  contempt  of  others.  Could  we  have 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS.  129 

entered  into  the  mind  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and 
have  traced  all  the  steps  by  which  he  produced 
his  great  works,  we  might  see  nothing  very 
extraordinary  in  the  process."  Our  student, 
with  an  ingenuous  simplicity,  opens  to  us  that 
u  variety  of  mechanical  expedients  by  which  he 
secured  and  arranged  his  thoughts,"  and  that 
discipline  of  the  mind,  by  a  peculiar  arrange- 
ment of  his  studies,  for  the  day  and  for  the  year, 
in  which  he  rivalled  the  calm  and  unalterable 
system  pursued  by  Gibbon.  Buffon  and  Voltaire 
employed  the  same  manoeuvres,  and  often  only 
combined  the  knowledge  they  obtained,  by  hum- 
ble methods.  They  knew  what  to  ask  for,  and 
made  use  of  an  intelligent  secretary ;  aware, 
as  Lord  Bacon  has  expressed  it,  that  some  Books 
"  may  be  read  by  deputy."  Buffon  laid  down 
an  excellent  rule  to  obtain  originality,  when  he 
advised  the  writer,  first  to  exhaust  his  own 
thoughts  before  he  attempted  to  consult  other 
writers.  The  advice  of  Lord  Bacon,  that  we 
should  pursue  our  studies,  whether  the  mind  is 
disposed  or  indisposed,  is  excellent ;  in  the  one 
case,  we  shall  gain  a  great  step,  and  in  the  other, 
we  "  shall  work  out  the  knots  and  stands  of  the 
mind,  and  make  the  middle  times  the  more  plea- 
sant." John  Hunter  very  happily  illustrated  the 
advantages,  which  every  one  derives  from  putting 


X30  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS. 

his  thoughts  in  writing  ;  "  it  resembles,"  said  he 
"  a  tradesman  taking  stock ;  without  which,  he 
never  knows  either  what  he  possesses,  or  in  what 
he  is  deficient."  Industry  is  the  feature  by  which 
the  ancients  so  frequently  describe  an  eminent 
character;  such  phrases  as  "  incredibili  industries; 
diligentia  singulari,"  are  usual.  When  we  reflect 
on  the  magnitude  of  the  labours  of  Cicero, 
Erasmus,  Gesner,  Baronius,  Lord  Bacon,  Usher, 
and  Bayle,  we  seem  asleep  at  the  base  of  these 
monuments  of  study,  and  scarcely  awaken  to 
admire.  Such  "are  the  laborious  instructors  of 
mankind ! 

Nor  let  those  other  artists  of  the  mind,  who 
work  in  the  airy  looms  of  fancy  and  wit,  ima- 
gine that  they  are  weaving  their  webs,  without 
the  direction  of  a  principle,  and  without  a 
secret  habit  which  they  have  acquired  ;  there 
may  be  even  an  art,  unperceived  by  themselves, 
in  opening  and  pursuing  a  scene  of  pure  inven- 
tion, and  even  in  the  happiest  turns  of  wit. 
One  who  had  all  the  experience  of  such  an  artist, 
has  employed  the  very  terms  we  have  used,  of 
"  mechanical"  and  "  habitual."  "  Be  assured," 
says  Goldsmith,  "  that  wit  is  in  some  measure 
mechanical ;  and  that  a  man  long  habituated  to 
catch  at  even  its  resemblance,  will  at  last  be 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS.  131 

happy  enough  to  possess  the  substance.  By  a 
long  habit  of  writing,  he  acquires  a  justness  of 
thinking,  and  a  mastery  of  manner,  which  holiday 
writers,  even  with  ten  times  his  genius,  may  vain- 
ly attempt  to  equal."  Even  in  the  sublime 
efforts  of  imagination,  this  art  of  meditation  may 
be  practised;  and  Alfieri  has  shown  us,  that  in 
those  energetic  tragic  dramas  which  were  often 
produced  in  a  state  of  enthusiasm,  he  pursued 
a  regulated  process.  "  All  my  .tragedies  have 
been  .composed  three  times,"  and  he  describes 
the  three  stages  of  conception,  development, 
and  versifying.  "  After  these  three  operations, 
I  proceed  like  other  authors,  to  polish,  correct 
or  amend," 

<c  All  is  habit  in  mankind,  even  virtue  itself!" 
exclaimed  Metastasio ;  and  we  may  add,  even 
the  meditations  of  genius.  Some  of  its  boldest 
conceptions  are  indeed  fortuitous,  starting  up 
and  vanishing  almost  in  the  perception ;  like 
that  giant  form,  sometimes  seen  amidst  the  gla- 
cieres,  opposite  the  traveller,  afar  from  him 
moving  as  he  moves,  stopping  as  he  stops,  yet, 
in  a  moment  lost,  and  perhaps  never  more  seen, 
— although  but  his  own  reflection  !  Often  in  the 
still  obscurity  of  the  night,  the  ideas,  the  studies, 
th.e  whole  history  of  the  day  is  acted  over  again, 


132  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENfrFS. 

and  in  these  vivid  reveries,  we  are  converted  into 
spectators.  A  great  poetical  contemporary  of  our 
country  does  not  think  that  even  his  dreams  should 
pass  away  unnoticed,  and  keeps,  what  he  calls,  a 
register  of  nocturnals.  The  historian  De  Thou 
was  one  of  those  great  literary  characters,  who, 
all  his  life,  was  preparing  to  write  the  history 
which  he  wrote  ;  omitting  nothing,  in  his  travels 
and  his  embassies,  which  went  to  the  formation  of 
a  great  man,  De  Thou  has  given  a  very  curious 
account  of  his  dreams.  Such  was  his  passion  for 
study,  and  his  ardent  admiration  of  the  great 
men  whom  he  conversed  with,  that  he  often 
imagined  in  his  sleep,  ttyat  he  was  travelling  in 
Italy,  in  Germany,  and  in  England,  where  he 
saw  and  consulted  the  learned,  and  examined 
their  curious  libraries ;  he  had  all  his  life  time 
these  literary  dreams,  but  more  particularly 
when  in  his  travels,  he  thus  repeated  the  images 
of  the  day.  If  memory  does  not  chain  down 
these  hurrying,  fading  children  of  the  imagina- 
tion, and 

"  Snatch  the  faithless  fugitives  to  light" 

Pleasures  of  Memory. 

with  the  beams  of  the  morning,  the  mind  sud- 
denly finds  itself  forsaken  and  solitary.  Rous- 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS. 

seau  has  uttered  a  complaint  on  this  occasion : 
full  of  enthusiasm,  he  devoted  to  the  subject  of 
his  thoughts,  as  was  his  custom,  the  long  sleep- 
less intervals  of  his  nights,  meditating  in  bed, 
with  his  eyes  closed,  he  turned  over  his  periods, 
in  a  tumult  of  ideas  j  but  when  he  rose  and 
had  dressed,  all  was  vanished,  and  when  he  sat 
down  to  his  papers,  he  had  nothing  to  write. 
Thus  genius  has  its  vespers,  and  its  vigils,  as 
well  as  its  matins,  which  we  have  been  so  often 
told  are  the  true  hours  of  its  inspiration — but 
every  hour  may  be  full  of  inspiration  for  him  who 
knows  to  meditate.  No  man  was  more  practised 
in  this  art  of  the  mind,  than  Pope,  and  even  the 
night  was  not  an  unregarded  portion  of  his  poet- 
ical existence. 

Few  works  of  magnitude  presented  themselves 
at  once,  in  their  extent  and  their  associations  to 
their  authors  ^  the  man  of  genius  perceives  not 
more  than  two  or  three  striking  circumstances, 
unobserved  by  another ;  in  revolving  the  subject, 
the  whole  mind  is  gradually  agitated ;  it  is  a 
summer  landscape,  at  the  break  of  day,  Wrapt  in 
mist,  where  the  sun  strikes  on  a  single  object, 
till  the  light  and  warmth  increasing,  all  starts 
up  in  the  noon-clay  of  imagination.  How  beauti*- 
fully  this  state  of  the  mind,  in  the  progress  of 

M 


134  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS 

composition,  is  described  by  Dryden,  alluding 
to  bis  work,  "  when  it  was  only  a  confused  mass 
of  thoughts,  tumbling  over  one  another  in  the  dark ; 
when  the  fancy  was  yet  in  its  first  work,  moving 
the  sleeping  images  of  things,  towards  the  light, 
there  to  be  distinguished,  and  then  either  to  be 
chosen  or  rejected,  by  the  judgment."  At  that 
moment,  he  adds,  u  I  was  in  that  eagerness  of 
imagination,  which,  by  over-pleasing  fanciful  men, 
flatters  them  into  the  danger  of  writing."  Gib- 
bon tells  us  of  his  history,  "  at  the  onset,  all  was 
dark  and  doubtful ;  even  the  title  of  the  work, 
the  true  era  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  em- 
pire, &c.  I  was  often  tempted  to  cast  away  the 
labour  of  seven  years."  Winckelman  was  long 
lost  in  composing  his  "History  of  Art;"  a  hun- 
dred fruitless  attempts  were  made,  before  he  could 
discover  a  plan  amidst  the  labyrinth.  Slight  con- 
ceptions kindle  finished  works  :  a  lady  asking  for 
a  few  verses  on  rural  topics,  of  the  Abbe  De 
Lille,  his  specimens  pleased,  and  sketches  heaped 
on  sketches,  produced  "  Les  Jardins.  In  writing 
the  "  Pleasures  of  Memory,"  the  poet  at  first 
proposed  a  simple  description  in  a  few  nes,  till 
conducted  by  meditation,  the  perfect  composition 
of  several  years  closed  in  that  fine  poem.  And 
thus  it  happened  with  the  Rape  of  the  Lock, 
and  many  celebrated  productions. 


MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS.  135 

Were  it  possible  to  collect  some  thoughts  of 
great  thinkers,  which  were  never  written,  we 
should  discover  vivid  conceptions,  and  an  origi- 
nality they  never  dared  to  pursue  in  their  works  ! 
Artists  have  this  advantage  over  authors,  that 
their  virgin  fancies,  their  chance  felicities,  which 
labour  cannot  afterwards  produce,  are  constantly 
perpetuated ;  and  these  "  studies"  as  they  are 
called,  are  as  precious  to  posterity,  as  their  more 
complete  designs.  We  possess  one  remarkable 
evidence  of  these  fortuitous  thoughts  of  genius 
Pope  and  Swift,  being  in  the  country  together, 
observed,  that  if  contemplative  men  were  to 
notice  "  the  thoughts  which  suddenly  present 
themselves  to  their  minds,  when  walking  in  the 
fields,  &c.  they  might  find  many  as  well  worth 
preserving,  as  some  of  their  more  deliberate 
reflexions."  They  made  a  trial,  and  agreed  to 
write  down  such  involuntary  thoughts  as  occurred 
during  their  stay  there  ;  these  furnished  out  the 
"  Thoughts"  in  Pope's  and  Swift's  miscellanies.* 
Among  Lord  Bacon's  Remains,  we  find  a  paper 
entitled  "  sudden  thoughts,  set  down  for  profit." 
At  all  hours,  by  the  side  of  Voltaire's  bed,  or  on 

*  This  anecdote  is  found  in  Ruff  head's  life  of  Pope,  evi- 
dently given  by  Warburton,  as  was  every  thing  of  personal 
knowledge  in  that  tasteless  volume  of  a  mere  lawyer,  writing 
the  life  of  a  poet. 


136  THE  MEDITATIONS    OF  GENIUS. 

his  table,  stood  his  pen  and  ink,  with  slips  of 
paper.  The  margins  of  his  books  were  covered 
with  his  "  sudden  thoughts."  Cicero,  in  reading, 
constantly  took  notes  and  made  comments ;  but 
we  must  recollect  there  is  an  art  of  reading,  as 
well  as  an  art  of  thinking. 

This  art  of  meditation  may  be  exercised  at  all 
hours  and  in  all  places ;  and  men  of  genius  in  their 
walks,  at  table,  and  amidst  assemblies,  turning 
the  eye  of  the  mind  inwards,  can  form  an  arti- 
ficial solitude  ;  retired  amidst  a  crowd,  and  wise 
amidst  distraction  and  folly.  Some  of  the  great 
actions  of  men  of  this  habit  of  mind,  were  first 
meditated  on,  amidst  the  noise  of  a  convivial 
party,  or  the  music  of  a  concert.  The  victory 
of  Waterloo  might  have  been  organized  in  the 
ball  room  at  Brussels,  as  Rodney  at  the  table  of 
Lord  Sandwich,  while  the  bottle  was  briskly 
circulating,  was  observed  arranging  bits  of  cork ; 
his  solitary  amusement  having  excited  an  in- 
quiry, he  said  that  he  wras  practising  a  plan  how 
to  annihilate  an  enemy's  fleet;  this  afterwards 
proved  to  be  that  discovery  of  breaking  the  line, 
which  the  happy  audacity  of  the  hero  executed, 
Thus  Hogarth,  with  an  eye  always  awake  to 
the  ridiculous,  would  catch  a  character  on  his 
thumb-nail :  Leonardo  da  Vinci  could  detect  in 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS.  137 

the  stains  of  an  old  weather-beaten  wall,  the 
landscapes  of  nature,  and  Haydn  carefully  noted 
down  in  a  pocket  book,  the  passages  and  ideas 
which  came  to  him  in  his  walks,  or  amidst  com- 
pany. 

To  this  habit  of  continuity  of  attention,  tracing 
the  first  simple  idea  through  its  remoter  con- 
sequences, Galileo  and  Newton  owed  many  of 
their  discoveries.  It  was  one  evening  in  the 
cathedral  of  Pisa,  that  Galileo  observed  the  vibra- 
tions of  a  brass  lustre  pendent  from  the  vaulted 
roof,  which  had  been  left  swinging  by  one  of  the 
vergers ;  the  habitual  meditation  of  genius  com- 
bined with  an  ordinary  accident  a  new  idea  of 
science,  and  hence,  conceived  the  invention  of 
measuring  time  by  the  medium  of  a  pendulum. 
Who  but  a  genius  of  this  order,  sitting  in  his 
orchard,  and  being  struck  by  the  fall  of  an  apple, 
could  have  discovered  a  new  quality  in  matter 
by  the  system  of  gravitation;  or  have  imagined, 
while  viewing  boys  blowing  soap-bladders,  the 
properties  of  light,  and  then  anatomised  a  ray! 
It  was  the  same  principle  which  led  Franklin 
when  on  board  a  ship,  observing  a  partial  still- 
ness in  the  waves,  when  they  threw  down  water 
which  had  been  used  for  culinary  purposes,  to 
the  discovery  of  the  wonderful  property  in  oil 
M  2 


138  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS 

of  calming  the  agitated  ocean,  and  many  a  ship 
has  been  preserved  in  tempestuous  weather,  or 
a  landing  facilitated  on  a  dangerous  surf,  by  this 
simple  meditation  of  genius. 

In  the  stillness  of  meditation  the  mind  of 
genius  must  be  frequently  thrown ;  it  is  a  kind 
of  darkness  which  hides  from  us  all  surrounding 
objects,  even  in  the  light  of  day.  This  is  the 
first  state  of  existence  in  genius. — In  Cicero, 
on  Old  Age,  we  find  Cato  admiring  that  Caius 
Sulpitius  Gallus,  who  when  he  sat  down  to 
write  in  the  morning  was  surprised  by  the  evening, 
and  when  he  took  up  his  pen  in  the  evening,  was 
surprized  by  the  appearance  of  the  morning. 
Socrates  has  remained  a  whole  day  in  immovea- 
ble  meditation,  his  eyes  and  countenance  direct- 
ed to  one  spot  as  if  in  the  stillness  of  death. 
La  Fontaine,  when  writing  his  comic  tales,  has 
been  observed  early  in  the  morning  and  late  in 
the  evening,  in  the  same  recumbent  posture  under 
the  same  tree.  This  quiescent  state  is  a  sort  of 
enthusiasm,  and  renders  every  thing  that  sur- 
rounds us  a?  distant  as  if  an  immense  interval 
separated  us  from  the  scene.  Poggius  has  told 
us  of  Dante,  that  he  indulged  his  meditations 
more  strongly  than  any  man  he  knew  ;  and  when 
once  deeply  engaged  in  reading  he  seemed  to  live 


THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  GENIUS.  139 

only  in  his  ideas.  The  poet  went  to  view  a  pub- 
lic procession,  and  having  entered  a  bookseller's 
shop,  taking  up  a  book  he  sunk  into  a  reverie ;  on 
his  return  he  declared  that  he  had  neither  seen 
nor  heard  a  single  occurrence  in  the  public  exhi- 
bition which  had  passed  before  him.  It  has  been 
told  of  a  modern  astronomer,  that  one  summer 
night  when  he  was  withdrawing  to  his  chamber,  the 
brightness  of  the  heavens  showed  a  phenomenon. 
He  passed  the  whole  night  in  observing  it ;  and 
when  they  came  to  him  early  in  the  morning, 
and  found  him  in  the  same  attitude,  he  said,  like 
ore  who  had  been  recollecting  his  thoughts  for  a 
ft  w  moments,  "  It  must  be  thus ;  but  I'll  go  to 
ted  before  it  is  late."  He  had  gazed  the  entire 
light  in  meditation,  and  was  not  aware  of  it. 

There  is  nothing  incredible  in  the  stories  re- 
lated of  some  who  have  experienced  this  en- 
tranced state,  in  a  very  extraordinary  degree ; 
that  ecstasy  in  study,  where  the  mind  deliciously 
inebriated  with  the  object  it  contemplates,  feels 
nothing,  from  the  excess  of  feeling,  as  a  philo- 
sopher well  describes  it : — Archimedes,  involved 
in  the  investigation  of  mathematical  truth,  and 
the  painters  Protogenes  and  Parmeggiano,  found 
their  senses  locked  up  as  it  were  in  meditation, 
so  as  to  be  incapable  of  withdrawing  themselves 


140  Tm  MEDITATIONS  OF    GENtUS. 

from  their  work  even  in  the  rnidst  of  the  terrors 
and  storming  of  the  place  by  the  enemy.  Mari- 
no was  so  absorbed  in  the  composition  of  his 
"  Adonis,"  that  he  suffered  his  leg  to  be  burnt 
for  some  time  before  the  pain  grew  stronger  than 
the  intellectual  pleasure  of  his  imagination. 
Thomas,  an  intense  thinker,  would  sit  for  hours 
against  a  hedge,  composing  with  a  low  voice, 
taking  the  same  pinch  of  snuff  for  half  an  hour 
together,  without  being  aware  that  it  had  long 
disappeared ;  when  he  quitted  his  apartment, 
after  prolonging  his  studies  there,  a  visible  alter- 
ation was  observed  in  his  person,  and  the  agi- 
tation of  his  recent  thoughts  was  stiil  traced  in 
his  air  and  manner.  With  what  eloquent  truth 
has  Buffon  described  those  reveries  of  the  stu- 
dent, which  compress  his  day,  and  mark  the 
hours  by  the  sensations  of  minutes.  "  Inven- 
tion," he  says,  "  depends  on  patience  ;  contem- 
plate your  subject  long,  it  will  gradually  unfold 
till  a  sort  of  electric  spark  convulses  for  a  mo- 
ment the  brain,  and  spreads  down  to  the  very 
heart  a  glow  of  irritation.  Then  come  the  luxu- 
ries of  genius,  the  true  hours  for  production  and 
composition;  hours  so  delightful  that  I  have 
spent  twelve  or  fourteen  successively  at  my 
writing-desk,  and  still  been  in  a  state  of  plea- 


THE  MEDITATIONS   OF  GENIUS.  J4j[ 

This  eager  delight  of  pursuing  his  study,  and 
this  impatience  of  interruption  in  the  pursuit,  are 
finely  described  by  Milton  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Deodati. 

"  Such  is  the  character  of  ray  mind,  that  no 
delay,  none  of  the  ordinary  cessations  (for  rest 
or  otherwise)  no,  I  had  nearly  said,  care  or 
thinking  of  the  very  subject,  can  hold  me  back 
from  being  hurried  on  to  the  destined  point,  and 
from  completing  the  great  circuit,  as  it  were,  of 
the  study  in  which  I  am  engaged."* 

Such  is  the  picture  of  genius,  viewed  in  the 
stillness  of  meditation,  but  there  is  yet  a  more 
excited  state,— when,  as  if  consciousness  were 
mixing  with  its  reveries,  in  the  allusion  of  a 
scene,  a  person,  a  passion,  the  emotions  of  the 
soul  aflect  even  the  organs  of  sense.  It  is  ex- 
perienced in  the  moments  the  man  of  genius  is 
producing ;  these  are  the  hours  of  inspiration, 
and  this  is  the  gentle  enthusiasm  of  genius  ! 

x  Meum  sic  est  ingenium,  nulla  ut  mora,  rmlla  quies,  nulla 
ferine  illius  rei  cura  aut  cogitatio  distineat,  quoad  pervadara 
quo  feror,  et  grandem  aliquem  studiorum  meorum  quasi 
periodum  conficiara." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 


A  STATE  of  mind  occurs  in  the  most  active  ope- 
rations of  genius,  which  the  term  reverie  in- 
adequately indicates ;  metaphysical  distinctions 
but  ill  describe  it,  and  popular  language  affords 
no  terms  for  those  faculties  and  feelings  which 
escape  the  observation  of  the  multitude  who  are 
not  affected  by  the  phenomenon. 

The  illusion  of  a  drama,  over  persons  of  great 
sensibility,  where  a)l  the  senses  are  excited  by 
a  mixture  of  reality  with  imagination,  is  expe- 
rienced by  men  of  genius  in  their  own  vivified 
ideal  world  ;  real  emotions  are  raised  by  fiction. 
In  a  scene,  apparently  passing  in  their  presence, 
where  the  whole  train  of  circumstances  succeeds 
in  all  the  continuity  of  nature,  and  a  sort  of  real 
existences  appear  to  rise  up  before  them,  they 
perceive  themselves  spectators  or  actors,  feel 
their  sympathies  excited,  and  involuntarily  use 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF    GENIUS.  143 

language  and  gestures,  while  the  exterior  organs 
of  sense  are  visibly  affected ;  not  that  they  are 
spectators  and  actors,  nor  that  the  scene  exists. 
In  this  equivocal  state,  the  enthusiast  of  genius 
produces  his  master-pieces.  This  waking  dream 
is  distinct  from  reverie,  where  our  thoughts 
wandering  without  connection,  the  faint  impres- 
sions are  so  evanescent  as  to  occur  without  even 
being  recollected.  Not  so  when  one  closely 
pursued  act  of  meditation  carries  the  enthusiast 
of  genius  beyond  the  precinct  of  actual  exist- 
ence, while  this  act  of  contemplation  makes  the 
thing  contemplated.  He  is  now  the  busy  painter 
of  a  world  which  he  himself  only  views ;  alone 
he  hears,  he  sees,  he  touches,  he  laughs  and 
weeps ;  his  brows  and  lips,  and  his  very  limbs 
move.  Poets  and  even  pointers,  who  as  Lord 
Bacon  describes  witches,  u  are  imaginative," 
have  often  involuntarily  betrayed  in  the  act  of 
composition  those  gestures  which  accompany 
this  enthusiasm.  Quintillian  has  nobly  compared 
them  to  the  lashings  of  the  lion's  tail  preparing 
to  combat.  Even  actors  of  genius  have  accus- 
tomed themselves  to  walk  on  the  stage  for  an 
hour  before  the  curtain  was  drawn,  to  fill  their 
minds  with  all  the  phantom's  of  the  drama,  to 
personify,  to  catch  the  passion,  to  speak  to  others. 


144  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

to  do  all  that  a  man  of  genius  would  have  viewed 
in  the  subject 

Aware  of  this  peculiar  faculty  so  prevalent  in 
the  more  vivid  exercise  of  genius,  Lord  Kaimes 
seems  to  have  been  the  first  who,  in  a  work  on 
criticism,  attempted  to  name  it  the  ideal  pre- 
sence, to  distinguish  it  from  the  real  presence  of 
things;  it  has  been  called  the  representative 
faculty,  the  imaginative  state,  &c.  Call  it  what 
we  will,  no  term  opens  to  us  the  invisible  mode 
of  its  operations,  or  expresses  its  variable  nature. 
Conscious  of  the  existence  of  such  a  faculty, 
our  critic  perceived  that  the  conception  of  it  is 
by  no  means  clear  when  described  in  words. 
Has  not  the  difference  of  any  actual  thing  and 
its  image  in  a  glass  perplexed  some  philosophers? 
and  it  is  well  known  how  far  the  ideal  philo- 
sophy has  been  carried.  "  All  are  pictures, 
alike  painted  on  the  retina,  or  optical  senso- 
rium!"  exclaimed  the  enthusiast  Barry,  who 
only  saw  pictures  in  nature  and  nature  in  pic- 
tures. 

Cold  and  barren  tempers  without  imagination, 
\vhose  impressions  of  objects  never  rise  beyond 
those  of  memory  and  reflection,  which  know  only 
to  compare,  and  not  to  excite^  will  smile  at  this 


THE  ENTHUSIASM    OF  GENIUS.  145 

equivocal  state  of  the  ideal  presence  ;  yet  it  is 
a  real  one  to  the  enthusiast  of  genius,  and  it  is 
his  happiest  and  peculiar  condition — without 
this  power  no  metaphysical  aid,  no  art  to  be 
taught  him,  no  mastery  of  talent  shall  avail  him  ; 
unblest  with  it  the  votary  shall  find  each  sacrifice 
lying  cold  on  the  altar,  for  no  accepting  flame 
from  heaven  shall  kindle  it. 

- 

This  enthusiasm  indeed  can  only  be  discovered 
by  men  of  genius  themselves,  yet  when  most 
under  its  influence,  they  can  least  perceive  it,  as 
the  eye  which  sees  all  things  cannot  view  itself; 
and  to  trace  this  invisible  operation,  this  wamth 
on  the  nerve,  were  to  search  for  the  principle  of 
life  which  found  would  cease  to  be  life.  There 
is  however  something  of  reality  in  this  state  of 
the  ideal  presence  ;  for  the  most  familiar  instan- 
ces show  that  the  nerves  of  each  external  sense 
are  put  in  motion  by  the  idea  of  the  object,  as  if 
the  real  object  had  been  presented  to  it ;  the  dif- 
ference is  only  in  the  degree.  Thus  the  exterior 
senses  are  more  concerned  in  the  ideal  world 
than  at  first  appears ;  we  thrill  at  even  the  idea 
of  any  thing  that  makes  us  shudder,  and  only 
imagining  it  often  produces  a  real  pain.  A  curi- 
ous consequence  flows  from  -.this  principle : 
Milton,  lingering  amidst  the  freshness  of  nature 


146  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF    GENIUS. 

in  Eden,  felt  all  the  delights  of  those  elements 
with  which  he  was  creating;  his  nerves  moved 
with  the  images  which  excited  them.  The  fierce 
and  wild  Dante  amidst  the  abysses  of  his  Inferno, 
must  often  have  been  startled  by  its  horrors,  and 
often  left  his  bitter  and  gloomy  spirit  in  the 
stings  he  inflicted  on  the  great  criminal.  The 
moving  nerves  then  of  the  man  of  genius  are 
a  reality;  he  sees,  he  hears,  he  feels  by  each. 
How  mysterious  to  us  is  the  operation  of  this 
faculty :  a  Homer  and  a  Richardson,*  like  Na- 
ture, open  a  volume  large  as  life  itself — embracing 
a  circuit  of  human  existence  ! 

Can  we  doubt  of  the  reality  of  this  faculty, 
when  the  visible  and  outward  frame  of  the  man 
of  genius  bears  witness  to  its  presence  ?  When 
Fielding  said  "I  do  not  doubt  but  the  most 
pathetic  and  affecting  scenes  have  been  writ 
with  tears,"  he  probably  drew  that  discovery 
from  an  inverse  feeling  to  his  own.  Fielding 
would  have  been  gratified  to  have  confirmed  the 

*  Richardson  assembles  a  family  about  him,  writing  down 
what  they  said,  seeing  their  very  manner  of  saying,  living  with 
them  as  often  and  as  long  as  he  wills — with  such  a  personal 
unity,  that  an  ingenius  lawyer  once  told  me  that  he  required 
no  stronger  evidence  of  a  fact  in  any  court  of  law  than  a  cir- 
cumstantial scene  in  Richardson. 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF    GENIUS.  147 

observation  by  facts  which  never  reached  him. 
Metastasio,  in  writing  the  ninth  scene  of  the 
second  act  of  his  Olympiad,  found  himself 
suddenly  moved — shedding  tears.  The  ima- 
gined sorrows  inspired  real  tears ;  and  they  after- 
wards proved  contagious.  Had  our  poet  not 
perpetuated  his  surprise  by  an  interesting  sonnet, 
the  circumstance  had  passed  away  with  the 
emotion,  as  many  such  have.  Aliieri,  the  most 
energetic  poet  of  modern  times,  having  com- 
posed, without  a  pause,  the  whole  of  an  act, 
noted  in  the  margin — "  Written  under  a  paroxysm 
of  enthusiasm,  and  while  shedding  a  flood  of 
tears."  The  impressions  which  the  frame  ex- 
periences in  this  state,  leave  deeper  traces 
behind  them  than  those  of  reverie.  The  tre- 
mors of  Dryden,  after  having  .  written  an  ode, 
a  circumstance  accidentally  preserved,  were  not 
unusual  with  him — for  in  the  preface  to  his 
Tales  he  tells  us,  that  "  in  translating  Homer 
he  found  greater  pleasure  than  in  Virgil;  but 
it  was  not  a  pleasure  without  pain  ;  the  con- 
tinual agitation  of  the  spirits  must  needs  be  a 
weakener  to  any  constitution,  especially  in  age, 
and  many  pauses  are  required  for  refreshment 
betwixt  the  heats."  We  find  Metastasio,  like 
others  of  the  brotherhood,  susceptible  of  this 
state,  complaining  of  his  sufferings  during  the 


J4S  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

poetical  asstus.  "  When  I  apply  with  attention, 
the  nerves  of  my  sensorium  are  put  into  a  vio- 
lent tumult ;  I  grow  as  red  as  a  drunkard,  and 
am  obliged  to  quit  my  work."  When  Buffon 
was  absorbed  on  a  subject  which  presented 
^reat  objections  to  his  opinions,  he  felt  his  head 
burn,  and  saw  his  countenance  flushed ;  and  this 
was  a  warning  for  him  to  suspend  his  attention. 
Gray  could  never  compose  voluntarily;  his 
genius  resembled  the  armed  apparition  in  Shake- 
speare's master  tragedy.  "  He  would  not  be 
commanded,"  as  we  are  told  by  Mr.  Mathias. 
When  he  wished  to  compose  the  Installation 
Ode,  for  a  considerable  time  he  felt  himself 
without  the  power  to  begin  it:  a  friend  calling 
on  him,  Gray  flung  open  his  door  hastily,  and 
in  a  hurried  voice  and  tone  exclaiming,  in  the 
first  verse  of  that  ode, 

(;  Hence,  avaunt !  'tis  holy  ground  !"— 

his  friend  started  at  the  disordered  appearance 
of  the  bard,  whose  orgasm  had  disturbed  his 
very  air  and  countenance,  till  he  recovered  bim*- 
self.  Listen  to  one  labouring  with  all  the  magic 
of  the  spell.  Madam  Roland  has  thus  power- 
fully described  the  ideal  presence  in  her  first 
readings  -of  Telemachus  and  Tasso: — "My 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS.  149 

respiration  rose,  I  felt  a  rapid  fire  colouring  my 
face  and  my  voice  changing  had  betrayed  my 
agitation.  I  was  Eucharis  for  Telemachus,  and 
Erminia  for  Tancred.  However,  during  this 
perfect  transformation,  I  did  not  yet  think  that 
I  myself  was  any  thing,  for  any  one :  the  whole 
had  no  connection  with  myself.  I  sought  for 
nothing  around  me;  I  was  them;  I  saw  only 
the  objects  which  existed  for  them ;  it  was  a 
dream,  without  being  awakened."  The  effect, 
which  the  study  of  Plutarch's  illustrious  men 
produced  on  the  mighty  mind  of  Alfieri,  during 
a  whole  winter,  while  he  lived  as  it  were  among 
the  heroes  of  antiquity,  he  has  himself  told. 
Alfieri  wept  and  raved  with  grief  and  indigna- 
tion that  he  was  born  under  a  government  which 
favoured  no  Roman  heroes  nor  sages ;  as  often 
as  he  was  struck  with  the  great  actions  of  these 
great  men,  in  his  extreme  agitation  he  rose 
from  his  seat  like  one  possessed.  The  feeling 
of  genius  in  Alfieri  was  suppressed  for  more 
than  twenty  years,  by  the  discouragement  of 
his  uncle ;  but  as  the  natural  temperament  can- 
not be  crushed  out  of  the  soul  of  genius,  he 
was  a  poet  without  writing  a  single  verse ;  and 
as  a  great  poet,  the  ideal  presence  at  times  be- 
came ungovernable  and  verging  to  madness. 
In  traversing  the  wilds  of  Arragon,  his  emo- 
N  2 


1 J50  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

tions,  he  says,  would  certainly  have  given  birth 
to  poetry,  could  he  have  expressed  himself  in 
verse.  It  was  a  complete  state  of  the  imagina- 
tive existence,  or  this  ideal  presence ;  for  he 
proceeded  along  the  wilds  of  Arragon  in  a  re- 
verie, weeping  and  laughing  by  turns.  He  con- 
sidered this  as  a  folly,  because  it  ended  in 
nothing  but  in  laughter  and  tears.  He  was 
not  aware  that  he  was  then  yielding  to  a  demon- 
stration, could  he  have  judged  of  himself,  that 
he  possessed  those  dispositions  of  mind  and 
energy  of  passion  which  form  the  poetical  char- 
acter. 

Genius  creates  by  a  single  conception  ;  the 
statuary  conceives  the  statue  at  once,  which  he 
afterwards  executes  by  the  slow  process  of  art ; 
and  the  architect  contrives  a  whole  palace  in  an 
instant.  In  a  single  principle,  opening  as  it  were 
on  a  sudden  to  genius,  a  great  and  new  system  of 
things  is  discovered.  It  has  happened,  some- 
times, that  this  single  conception,  rushing  over 
the  whole  concentrated  soul  of  genius,  has  agi- 
tated the  frame  convulsively ;  it  comes  like  a 
whispered  secret  from  Nature.  When  Malle- 
branche  first  took  up  Descartes's  treatise  on  Man, 
the  germ  of  his  own  subsequent  philosophic  sys- 
tem, such  was  his  intense  feeling,  that  a  violent 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS.  151 

palpitation  of  the  heart,  more  than  once,  obliged 
him  to  lay  down  the  volume.  When  the  first  idea 
of  the  Essay  on  the  Arts  and  Sciences  rushed  on 
the  mind  of  Rousseau,  a  feverish  symptom  in  his 
nervous  system  approached  to  a  slight  delirium  : 
stopping  under  an  oak,  he  wrote  with  a  pencil  the 
Prosopopeiae  of  Fabricius. — "  I  still  remember 
my  solitary  transport  at  the  discovery  of  a  philo- 
sophical argument  against  the* 'doctrine  of  tran- 
substantiation,"  exclaimed  Gibbon  in  his  Me- 
moirs. 

This  quick  sensibility  of  genius  has  suppressed 
the  voices  of  poets  in  reciting  their  most  pathetic 
passages. — Thomson  was  so  oppressed  by  a  pas- 
sage in  Virgil  or  Milton,  when  he  attempted  to 
read,  that  "  his  voice  sunk  in  ill-articulated 
sounds  from  the  bottom  of  his  breast."  The 
tremulous  figure  of  the  ancient  Sybil  appears  to 
have  been  viewed  in  that  land  of  the  Muses,  by 
the  energetic  description  of  Paulus  Jovius  of  the 
impetus  and  afflatus  of  one  of  the  Italian  impro- 
visatorl,  some  of  whom,  I  have  heard  from  one 
present  at  a  similar  exhibition,  have  not  degener- 
ated in  poetic  inspiration,  nor  in  its  corporeal  ex- 
citement. "  His  eyes  fixed  downwards,  kindle, 
as  he  gives  utterance  to  his  effusions,  the  moist 
drops  flow  down  his  cheeks,  the  veins  of  his  fore- 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

head  swell,  and  wonderfully  his  learned  ears,  as 
it  were,  abstracted  and  intent,  moderate  each  im- 
pulse of  his  flowing  numbers."* 

This  enthusiasm  throws  the  man  of  genius  into 
those  reveries  where,  amidst  Nature,  while  others 
are  terrified  at  destruction,  he  can  only  view  Na- 
ture herself.  The  mind  of  Pliny,  to  add  one 
more  chapter  to  his  mighty  scroll,  sought  her 
amidst  the  volcano  in  which  he  perished.  Verne t 
was  oft  board  a  ship  in  the  midst  of  a  raging  tem- 
pest, and  all  hope  was  given  up  :  the  astonished 
captain  beheld  the  artist  of  genius,  his  pencil  in 
his  hand,  in  calm  enthusiasm,  sketching  the  ter- 
rible world  of  waters — studying  the  wave  that  was 
rising  to  devour  him. 

There  is  a  tender  enthusiasm  in  the  elevated 
studies  of  antiquity,  in  which  the  ideal  presence 
or  the  imaginative  existence  is  seen  prevailing 
over  the  mind.  It  is  finely  said  by  Livy,  that 
u  in  contemplating  antiquity,  the  mind  itself  be- 
comes antique."  Amidst  the  monuments  of  great 
and  departed  nations,  our  imagination  is  touched 

*  The  passage  is  curious. — "  Canenti  defixi  exardent  oculi, 
sudores  manant,  frontis  venae  contumescunt,  et  quod  mirunV 
est,  eruditae  aures  tanquam  alienae  et  intenta?  omnera  impetum 
profluentium  numerorum  exactissima  ratione  moderantur." 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIU&.  153 

by  the  grandeur  of  local  impressions,  and  the  vi- 
vid associations  of  the  manners,  the  arts,  and  the 
individuals,  of  a  great  people.  Men  of  genius 
have  roved  amidst  the  awful  ruins  till  the  ideal 
presence  has  fondly  built  up  the  city  anew,  and 
have  become  Romans  in  the  Rome  of  two  thou- 
sand years  past.  Pomponius  Laetus,  who  devoted 
his  life  to  this  study,  was  constantly  seen  wander- 
ing amidst  the  vestiges  of  this  "  throne  of  the 
world  :"  there,  in  many  a  reverie,  as  his  eye  rest- 
ed on  the  mutilated  arch  and  the  broken  column, 
lie  stopped  to  muse,  and  dropt  tears  in  the  ideal 
presence  of  Rome  and  of  the  Romans.  Another 
enthusiast  of  this  class  was  Bosius,  who  sought  be- 
neath Rome  for  another  Rome,  in  those  cata- 
combs built  by  the  early  Christians,  for  their  asy- 
lum and  their  sepulchres.  His  work  of  "  Roma 
Sotteranea"  is  the  production  of  a  subterraneous 
life,  passed  in  fervent  and  perilous  labours.  Tak- 
ing with  him  a  hermit's  meal  for  the  ?week,  this 
new  Pliny  often  descended  into  the  bdwels  of  the 
earth,  by  lamp-light,  clearing  away  the  sand  and 
ruins,  till  some  tomb  broke  forth,  or  some  in- 
scription became  legible :  accompanied  by  some 
friend  whom  his  enthusiasm  had  inspired  with  his 
own  sympathy,  here  he  dictated  his  notes,  tracing 
.the  mouldering  sculpture,  and  catching  the  fading 
picture.  Thrown  back  into  the  primitive  ages  of 


254  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

Christianity,  amidst  the  local  impressions,  the 
historian  of  the  Christian  catacombs  collected  the 
memorials  of  an  age  and  of  a  race,  which  were 
hidden  beneath  the  earth. 

Werner,  the  mineralogist,  celebrated  for  his" 
lectures,  by  some  accounts  transmitted  by  his  au- 
ditors, appears  to  have  exercised  this  faculty. 
Werner  often  said  that  "  he  always  depended  on 
the  muse  for  inspiration."  His  unwritten  lecture 
was  a  reverie — till  kindling  in  his  progress,  blend- 
ing science  and  imagination  in  the  grandeur  of  his 
conceptions,  at  times,  as  if  he  had  gathered  about 
him  the  very  elements  of  Nature,  his  spirit  seem- 
ed to  be  hovering  over  the  waters  and  the  strata. 

It  is  this  enthusiasm  which  inconceivably 
fills  the  mind  of  genius  in  all  great  and  solemn 
operations  :  it  is  an  agitation  in  calmness,  and  is 
required  not  only  in  the  fine  arts,  but  wherever 
a  great  and  continued  exertion  of  the  soul  must 
be  employed.  It  was  experienced  by  De  Thou, 
the  historian,  when  after  his  morning  prayers 
he  always  added  another  to  implore  the  Divinity 
to  purify  his  heart  from  partiality  and  hatred, 
and  to  open  his  spirit  in  developing  the  truth, 
amidst  the  contending  factions  of  his  times ; 
and  by  Haydn,  when  employed  in  his  "  Crea- 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OE  GENIUS.  155 

tion,"  earnestly  addressing  the  Creator  ere  he 
struck  his  instrument.  In  moments  like  these, 
man  becomes  a  perfect  unity — one  thought  and 
one  act,  abstracted  from  all  other  thoughts  and 
all  other  acts.  It  was  felt  by  Gray  in  his  lof- 
tiest excursions,  and  is  perhaps  the  same  power 
which  impels  the  villager,  when,  to  overcome 
his  rivals  in  a  contest  for  leaping,  he  retires 
back  some  steps,  collects  all  exertion  into  his 
mind,  and  clears  the  eventful  bound.  One  of 
our  Admirals  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  held  as 
a  maxim,  that  a  height  of  passion,  amounting 
to  phrenzy,  was  necessary  to  qualify  a  man  for 
that  place ;  and  Nelson,  decorated  by  all  his 
honours  about  him,  on  the  day  of  battle,  at  the 
sight  of  those  emblems  of  glory  emulated  him- 
self. This  enthusiasm  was  necessary  and  effec- 
tive for  his  genius. 


This  enthusiasm,  prolonged  as  it  often  has 
been  by  the  operation  of  the  imaginative  exis- 
tence becomes  a  state  of  perturbed  feeling, 
"and  can  only  be  distinguished  from  a  disordered 
intellect  by  the  power  of  volition,  in  a  sound 
mind,  of  withdrawing  from  the  ideal  world  into 
the  world  of  sense.  It  is  but  a  step  which  car- 
ries us  from  the  wanderings  of  fancy  into  the 
aberrations  of  delirium. 


156  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

"  With  curious  art  the  brain  too  finely  wrought 
Preys  on  herself,  and  is  destroyed  by  thought ; 
Constant  attention  wears  the  active  mind, 
Blots  out  her  powers,  and  leaves  a  blank  behind — 
The  greatest  genius  to  this  fate  may  bow." 

Churchill 


There  may  be  an  agony  in  thought  which  only 
deep  thinkers  experience.     The  terrible    effects 
of  metaphysical  studies  on  Beattie,  has  been  told 
by  himself. — "  Since  the  Essay  on  Truth   was 
printed  in  quarto,  I  have  never  dared  to  read  it 
over.     I   durst  not  even  read  the  sheets   to  see 
whether  there  were  any  errors  in  the  print,  and 
was  obliged  to  get  a  friend   to  do  that  office  for 
me.     These  studies  came  in  time  to  have  dread- 
ful effects  upon  my  nervous  system ;  and  I  cannot 
read   what  I  then  wrote  without  some  degree  of 
horror,  because  it  recalls  to  my  mind  the  horrors 
that  I  have  sometimes  felt  after  passing  a  long 
evening  in  those  severe  studies."     Goldoni,  after 
a  rash  exertion  of  writing  sixteen  plays  in  a  year, 
confesses  he  paid  the  penalty  of  the  folly  ;  he 
flew  to  Genoa,  leading  a  life  of  delicious  vacuity  ;• 
to  pass  the  day  without  doing  any  thing,  was  all 
the   enjoyment  he  was  now  capable  of  feeling. 
But  long   after  he  said,  "  I  felt  at  that  time,  and 
have  ever  since  continued  to  feel,  the  consequence 
of  that  exhaustion  of  spirits  I  sustained  in  com- 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OP  GENIUS.       .       151 

posing  my  sixteen  comedies."  Boerhaave  has  re- 
lated of  himself,  that  having  imprudently  indulged 
in  intense  thought  on  a  particular  subject,  he  did 
not  close  his  eyes  for  six  weeks  after :  and  Tissot, 
in  his  work  on  the  health  of  men  of  letters, 
abounds  in  similar  cases,  where  a  complete  stupor 
has  affected  the  unhappy  student  for  a  period  of 
six  months. 

Assuredly  the  finest  geniuses  could  not  always 
withdraw  themselves  from  that  intensely  interest- 
ing train  of  ideas,  which  we  have  shown  has  not 
been  removed  from  about  them  by  even  the  vio- 
lent stimuli  of  exterior  objects  ;  the  scenical  illu- 
sion,— the  being  of  their  passion, — the  invisible 
existences  repeatedly  endowed  by  them  with  a 
vital  force,  have  still  hung  before  their  eyes.  It 
was  in  this  state  that  Petrarch  found  himself  in 
that  minute  narrative  of  a  vision  in  which  Laura 
appeared  to  him  ;  and  Tasso  in  the  lofty  conver- 
sations he  held  with  a  spirit  that  glided  towards 
him  on  the  beams  of  the  sun  :  and  thus,  Malle- 
branche  listening  to  the  voice  of  God  within  him  ; 
or  Lord  Herbert  on  his  knees,  in  the  stillness  of 
the  sky ;  or  Paschal  starting  at  times  at  an  abyss 
opening  by  his  side.  Descartes,  when  young, 
and  in  a  country  seclusion,  his  brain  exhauste 
with  meditation,  and  his  imagination  heated  to 
o 


IHE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

excess,  beard  a  voice  in  the  air  which  called  him 
to  pursue  the  search  of  truth ;  he  never  doubted 
the  vision,  and  this  dream  in  the  delirium  of 
genius  charmed  him  even  in  his  after-studies. 
Our  Collins  and  Cowper  were  often  thrown  into 
that  extraordinary  state  of  mind,  when  the  ideal 
presence  converted  them  into  visionaries ;  and 
their  illusions  were  as  strong  as  Swedenburgh's, 
who  saw  heaven  on  earth  in  the  glittering  streets 
of  his  New  Jerusalem,  and  Cardan's,  when  he  so 
carefully  observed  a  number  of  little  armed  men 
at  his  feet;  and  Benvenuto  Cellini,  whose  vivid 
imagination  and  glorious  egotism  so  frequently 
contemplated  "  a  resplendent  light  hovering  over 
his  shadow," 

Yet  what  less  than  enthusiasm  is  the  purchase- 
price  of  high  passion  and  invention  ?  Perhaps 
never  has  there  been  a  man  of  genius  of  this  rare 
cast,  who  has  not  betrayed  early  in  youth  the 
ebullitions  of  the  imagination  in  some  outward 
action  at  that  period,  when  the  illusions  of  life  are 
more  real  to  them  than  its  realities.  A  slight  de- 
rangement of  our  accustomed  habits,  a  little  per- 
turbation of  the  faculties,  and  a  romantic  tinge  on 
the  feelings,  give  no  indifferent  promise  of  genius  ; 
of  that  generous  temper  which  knows  nothing  of 
the  baseness  of  mankind,  unsatisfied,  and  raging 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

with  a  devouring  eagerness  for  the  aliment  it  has 
not  yet  found ;  to  perfect  some  glorious  design, 
to  charm  the  world,  or  make  it  happier.  Often 
ive  hear  from  the  confessions  of  men  of  genius,  of 
their  having  indulged  in  the  puerile  state  the  most 
noble,  the  most  delightful,  the  most  impossible 
projects;  and  if  age  ridicules  the  imaginative  ex- 
istence of  its  youth,  be  assured  that  it  is  the  de- 
cline of  its  genius.  That  virtuous  and  tender 
enthusiast,  Fenelon,  in  his  early  youth,  troubled 
his  friends  with  a  classical  and  religious  reverie. 
He  was  on  the  point  of  quitting  them  to  restore 
the  independence  of  Greece,  in  the  character  of  a 
missionary,  and  to  collect  the  relics  of  antiquity 
with  the  taste  of  a  classical  antiquary.  The  Pe- 
loponnesus opened  to  him  the  Church  of  Corinth, 
where  St.  Paul  preached,  the  Piraeus  where  So- 
crates conversed ;  while  the  latent  poet  was  to 
pluck  laurels  from  Delphos,  and  rove  amidst  the 
amenites  of  Tempe.  Such  was  the  influence  of 
the  ideal  presence  J  and  barren  will  be  his  imagin- 
ation, and  luckless  his  fortune,  who,  claiming 
the  honours  of  genius,  has  never  been  touched  by 
such  a  temporary  delirium. 

To  this  enthusiasm,  and  to  this  alone,  can  we 
attribute  the  self-immolation  of  men  of  genius. 
Mighty  and  laborious  works  have  been  pursued, 


|60  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

as  a  forlorn  hope,  at  the  certain  destruction  of 
the  fortune  of  the  individual.  The  fate  of  Cas- 
tell's  Lexicon,*  of  Bioch's  magnificent  work  on 
Fishes,  and  other  great  and  similar  labours,  attest 
the  enthusiasm  which  accompanied  their  pro- 
gress. They  have  sealed  their  works  with  their 
blood  :  they  have  silently  borne  the  pangs  of  dis- 
ease ;  they  have  barred  themselves  from  the  pur- 
suits of  fortune  ;  they  have  torn  themselves  away 
from  all  they  loved  in  life,  patiently  suffering 
these  self-denials,  to  escape  from  those  interrup- 
tions and  impediments  to  their  studies.  Martyrs 
of  literature  and  art,  they  behold  in  their  solitude 
that  halo  of  immortality  over  their  studious  heads, 
\vhich  is  a  reality  to  the  visionary  of  glory.  Mil- 
ton would  not  desist  from  proceeding  with  one  of 
his  works,  although  warned  by  the  physician  of 
the  certain  loss  of  his  sight ;  he  declared  he  pre- 
ferred his  duty  to  his  eyes,  and  doubtless  his  fame 
to  his  comfort.  Anthony  Wood,  to  preserve  the 

*  Castell  tost  12000/.  by  this  great  work ;  and  gave  away 
copies,  while  the  rest  rotted  at  home.  He  exhibits  a  curious 
picture  of  literary  labour  in  his  preface — "  As  for  myself,  I 
have  been  unceasingly  occupied  for  such  a  number  of  years 
in  this  mass — Molendino  he  calls  them — that  day  seemed  as 
it  were  a  holiday  in  which  I  have  not  laboured  so  much  as  six- 
teen or  eighteen  hours  in  these  enlarging  Lexicons  and  Poly- 
glot Bibles."  Bloch  expended  all  his  fortune  in  his  splendid 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS.  161 

lives  of  others,  voluntarily  resigned  his  own  to 
cloistered  studies  ;  nor  did  the  literary  passion  de- 
sert him  in  his  last  moments,  when  with  his  dying 
hands  he  still  grasped  his  beloved  papers,  and  his 
last  mortal  thoughts  dwelt  on  his  Athence  Oxoni- 
enses.*  Moreri,  the  founder  of  our  great  biogra- 
phical collections,  conceived  the  design  with  such 
enthusiasm,  and  found  such  voluptuousness  in  the 
labour,  that  he  willingly  withdrew  from  the  popu- 
lar celebrity  he  had  acquired  as  a  preacher,  and 
the  preferment  which  a  minister  of  state,  in  whose 
house  he  resided,  would  have  opened  to  his  views. 
After  the  first  edition  of  his  Historical  Dictionary, 
he  had  nothing  so  much  at  heart  as  its  improve- 
ment. His  unyielding  application  was  converting 
labour  into  death  ;  but  collecting  his  last  renovat- 
ed vigour,  with  his  dying  hands  he  gave  the  vo- 
lume to  the  world,  though  he  did  not  live  to  wit- 
ness even  its  publication.  All  objects  in  life 
appeared  mean  to  him  compared  with  that  ex- 
alted delight  of  addressing  to  the  literary  men  of 
his  age,  the  history  of  their  brothers.  The  same 
enthusiasm  consumes  the  pupils  of  art  devoured 
by  their  own  ardour.  The  young  and  classical 
sculptor,  who  raised  the  statue  of  Charles  II. 
placed  in  the  centre  of  the  Royal  Exchange^ 

*  See  Calamities  of  Authors,  vol.  i.  p.  243. 
o2 


162  THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

was,  in  the  midst  of  his  work,  advised  by  his 
medical  friends  to  desist  from  marble  ;  for  the 
energy  of  his  labour,  with  the  strong  excitement 
of  his  feelings,  already  had  made  fatal  inroads  in 
his  constitution.  But  he  was  willing,  he  said,  to 
die  at  the  foot  of  his  statue.  The  statue  was  rais- 
ed, and  the  young  sculptor,  with  the  shining  eyes 
and  hectic  blush  of  consumption,  beheld  it  there 
—returned  home — and  shortly  was  no  more. 
Drouais,  a  pupil  of  David,  the  French  painter, 
was  a  youth  of  fortune,  but  the  solitary  pleasure 
of  his  youth  was  his  devotion  to  Raphael ;  he 
was  at  his  studies  at  four  in  the  morning  till 
night ;  "  Painting,  or  Nothing  !"  was  the  cry  of 
this  enthusiast  of  elegance  5  "  First  fame,  then 
amusement,"  was  another.  His  sensibility  was 
great  as  his  enthusiasm  ;  and  he  cut  in  pieces 
the  picture  for  which  David  declared  he  would 
inevitably  obtain  the  prize.  <c  I  have  had  my 
reward  in  your  approbation;  but  next  year  I 
shall  feel  more  certain  of  deserving  it,"  was  the 
reply  of  this  young  enthusiast.  Afterwards  he 
astonished  Paris  with  his  Marius — but  while  en- 
gaged on  a  subject  which  he  could  never  quit, 
the  principle  of  life  itself  was  drying  up  in 
his  veins  Henry  Headly  i.nd  Kirke  White  were 
the  early  victims  of  the  enthusiasm  of  study  j 


THE  ENTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS. 

and  are  mourned  fur  ever  by  the  few  who  are 
organised  like  themselves. 

"  'Twas  thine  own  genius  gave  the  fatal  blow, 
And  helped  to  plant  the  wound  that  laid  thee  low ; 
So  the  struck  eagle,  stretched  upon  the  plain 
No  more  through  rolling  clouds  to  soar  again, 
Viewed  his  own  feather  on  the  fatal  dart, 
And  winged  the  shaft  that  quivered  in  his  heart ; 
Keen  were  his  pangs,  but  keener  far  to  feel 
He  nursed  the  pinion  which  impelled  the  steel, 
While  the  same  plumage  that  had  warmed  his  nest, 
Drank  the  last  life-drop  of  his  bleeding  breast." 

English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers, 

Thus  comes  the  shadow  of  death  among  those 
who  are  existing  with  more  than  life  about  them. 
Yet  "  there  is  no  celebrity  for  the  artist,"  said 
Gesner,  "  if  the  love  of  his  own  heart  does  not 
become  a  vehement  passion ;  if  the  hours  he 
employs  to  cultivate  it  are  not  for  him  the  most 
delicious  ones  of  his  life ;  if  study  becomes  not 
his  true  existence  and  his  first  happiness ;  if  the 
society  of  his  brothers  in  art  is  not  that  which 
most  pleases  him ;  if  even  in  the  night-time  the 
ideas  of  his  art  do  not  occupy  his  vigils  or  his 
dreams ;  if  in  the  morning  he  flies  not  to  his 
work  with  a  new  rapture.  These  are  the  marks 
of  him  who  labours  for  true  glory  and  posterity  ; 
but  if  he  seek  only  to  please  the  taste  of  his  age3 


THE  EiNTHUSIASM  OF  GENIUS, 

his  works  will  not  kindle  the  desires  nor  touch 
the  hearts  of  those  who  love  the  arts  and  the 
artists." 

Unaccompanied  by  enthusiasm,  genius  will 
produce  nothing  but  uninteresting  works  of  art; 
not  a  work  of  art,  resembling  the  dove  of  Arcbi- 
das,  which  other  artists  beheld  flying,  but  could 
not  make  another  dove  to  meet  it  in  the  air. 
Enthusiasm  is  the  secret  spirit  which  hovers 
over  the  production  of  genius,  throwing  the  rea- 
der of  a  book,  or  the  spectator  of  a  statue,  into 
the  very  ideal  presence  whence  these  works  have 
really  originated.  A  great  work  always  leaves  us 
in  a  state  of  musing. 


(  165) 


CHAPTER  IX. 


LITERARY  JEALOUSY. 


JEALOUSY,  long  declared  to  be  the  offspring  of 
little  minds,  is  not,  however,  restricted  to  them ; 
it  fiercely  rages  in  the  literary  republic,  among 
the  Senate  and  the  Order  of  Knights,  as  well  as 
the  people.  In  that  curious  self-description 
which  Linnaeus  comprised  in  a  single  page,  writ- 
ten with  the  precision  of  a  naturalist,  that  great 
man  discovered  that  his  constitution  was  liable 
to  be  afflicted  with  jealousy.  Literary  jealousy 
seems  often  proportioned  to  the  degree  of 
genius;  the  shadowy  and  equivocal  claims  of 
literary  honour  is  the  real  cause  of  this  terrible 
fear ;  in  eases  where  the  object  is  more  palpable 
and  definite,  and  the  pre-eminence  is  more  uni- 
versal, than  intellectual  excellence  can  be,  jeal- 
ousy will  not  so  strongly  affect  the  claimant  for 
our  admiration.  The  most  beautiful  woman,  in 
the  age  of  beauty  3  will  be  rarely  jealous :  seldom 


166  LITERARY  JEALOUSY. 

she  encounters  a  rival ;  and  while  her  claims  exist, 
who  can  contend  with  a  fine  feature  or  a  dissolv- 
ing glance  ?  But  a  man  of  genius  has  no  other 
existence  than  in  the  opinion  of  the  world;  a 
divided  empire  would  obscure  him,  a  contested 
one  might  annihilate  him. 

The  lives  of  authors  and  artists  exhibit  a  most 
painful  disease  in  that  jealousy  which  is  the  per- 
petual fever  of  their  existence.  Why  does  Plato 
never  mention  Zenophon,  and  why  doesZenophon 
inveigh  against  Plato,  studiously  collecting  every 
little  report  which  may  detract  from  his  fame  ? 
They  wrote  on  the  same  subject !  Why  did  Cor- 
neille,  tottering  on  the  grave,  when  Racine  con- 
sulted him  on  his  first  tragedy,  advise  the  author 
never  to  write  another?  Why  does  Voltaire 
continually  detract  from  the  sublimity  of  Corneille, 
the  sweetness  of  Racine,  and  the  fire  of  Crebil- 
lon  ?  Why,  when  Boccaccio  sent  to  Petrarch  a 
copy  of  Dante,  declaring  that  the  work  was  like 
a  first  light  which  had  illuminated  his  mind,  did 
Petrarch  coldly  observe  that  he  had  not  been 
anxious  to  inquire  after  it,  having  intended  to  com' 
pose  in  the  vernacular  idiom  and  not  wishing  to  be 
considered  as  a  plagiary ;  while  he  only  allows  Dan- 
te's superiority  from  having  written  in  the  vulgar 
idiom,  which  he  djd  not  think  was  an  enviable, 


LITERARY  JEALOUSY,  167 

but  an  inferior  merit.  Thus  frigidly  Petrarch 
took  the  altitude  of  the  solitary  JEtna  before  him, 
in  the  "  Inferno,"  while  he  shrunk  into  himself 
with  the  painful  consciousness  of  the  existence  of 
another  poet,  who  obscured  his  own  solitary  ma- 
jesty. Why  is  Waller  silent  on  the  merits  of 
Cowley,  and  why  does  he  not  give  one  verse  to 
return  the  praise  with  which  Dryden  honoured 
him,  while  he  is  warm  in  panegyric  on  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  on  Sandys,  Ware,  and  D'Avenant  ? 
Because  of  some  of  these  their  species  of  com- 
position was  different  from  his  own,  and  the  rest 
he  could  not  fear. 

The  moral  feeling  has  often  been  found  too 
weak  to  temper  the  malignancy  of  literary  jeal- 
ousy, and  has  led  some  men  of  genius  to  an  in- 
credible excess.  A  memorable  and  recent  ex- 
ample offers  in  the  history  of  the  two  brothers, 
Dr.  William,  and  John  Hunter,  both  great  cha- 
racters, fitted  to  be  rivals,  but  Nature,  it  was 
imagined,  in  the  tenderness  of  blood  had  placed 
a  bar  to  rivalry.  John,  without  any  determined 
pursuit  in  his  youth,  was  received  by  his  brother 
at  the  height  of  his  celebrity  ;  the  Doctor  initi- 
ated him  into  his  school ;  they  performed  their 
experiments  together ;  and  William  Hunter  was 
the  first  to  announce  to  the  world  the  great 


1(38  LITERARY  JEALOUSY. 

genius  of  his  brother.  After  this  close  connec- 
tion in  all  their  studies  and  discoveries.  Dr.  Wil- 
liam Hunter  published  his  magnificent  work—- 
the proud  favourite  of  his  heart,  the  assertor  of 
his  fame.  Was  it  credible  that  the  genius  of  the 
celebrated  anatomist,  which  had  been  nursed 
under  the  wing  of  his  brother,  should  turn  on 
that  wing  to  clip  it?  John  Hunter  put  in  his 
claim  to  the  chief  discovery;  it  was  answered 
by  his  brother.  The  Royal  Society,  to  whom 
they  appealed,  concealed  the  documents  of  this 
unnatural  feud.  The  blow  was  felt,  and  the  jeal- 
ousy of  literary  honour  for  ever  separated  the 
brothers,  and  the  brothers  of  genius.* 

In  the  jealousy  of  genius,  however,  there  is  a 
peculiar  case,  where  the  fever  rages  not  in  its 
malignancy,  yet  silently  consumes.  Even  the 
man  of  genius  of  the  gentlest  temper  dies  under 
its  slow  wastings  ;  and  this  infection  may  happen 
among  dear  friends,  when  a  man  of  genius  loses 
that  sell-opinion  which  animated  his  solitary 
labours  and  constituted  his  happiness — when  he 
viesvs  himself  at  the  height  of  his  class,  suddenly 
eclipsed  by  another  great  genius.  It  is  then  the 
morbid  sensibility,  acting  on  so  delicate  a  frame, 

*  See  Dr.  Adams's  interesting  life  of  Mr.  John  Hunter, 


LITERARY  JEALOUS?. 

feels  as  if  under  the  old  witchcraft  of  tying  the 
knot  on  the  nuptial  day, — the  faculties  are  sud- 
denly extinct  by  the  very  imagination.  This 
is  the  jealousy  not  of  hatred,  but  of  despair.  A 
curious  case  of  this  kind  appears  in  the  anecdote 
of  the  Spanish  artist  Castillo,  a  man  distinguished 
by  every  amiable  disposition ;  he  was  the  great 
painter  of  Seville.  When  some  of  Morillo's 
paintings  were  shown  to  him,  who  seems  to  have 
been  his  nephew,  he  stood  in  meek  astonishment 
before  them,  and  when  he  recovered  his  voice, 
turning  away,  he  exclaimed  with  a  sigh,  Yd  murio 
Castillo!  C^tillo  is  no  more  !  Returning  home 
the  stricken  genius  relinquished  his  pencil,  and 
pined  away  in  hopelessness. 


(  170 


CHAPTER  X. 

• 

WANT  OF  MUTUAL  ESTEEM. 


AMONG  men  of  genius  that  want  of  mutual  es- 
teem, usually  attributed  to  envy  or  jealousy,  often 
originates  in  a  deficiency  of  analogous  ideas,  or 
sympathy,  in  the  parties.  On  this  principle  seve- 
ral curious  phenomena  in  the  history  of  genius 
may  be  explained. 

Every  man  of  genius  has  a  manner  of  his  own  ; 
a  mode  of  thinking  and  a  habit  of  style  ;  and  usu- 
ally decides  on  a  work  as  it  approximates  or 
varies  from  his  own.  When  one  great  author 
depreciates  another  it  has  often  no  worse  source 
than  his  own  taste.  The  witty  Cowly  despised 
the  natural  Chaucer ;  the  cold  classical  Boileau 
the  rough  sublimity  of  Crebillon ;  the  refining 
Marivaux  the  familiar  Moliere  Fielding  ridiculed 
Richardson,  whose  manner  so  strongly  contrasted 
with  his  own ;  and  Richardson  contemned  Field- 
ing and  declared  he  would  not  last,  Cumberland 


WANT  OF  MUTUAL  ESTEEM.  171 

escaped  a  fit  of  unforgiveness,  not  living  to  read 
liis  own  character  by  Bishop  Watson,  whose  logi- 
cal head  tried  the  lighter  elegancies  of  that  po- 
lished man  by  his  own  nervous  genius,  destitute 
of  whatever  was  beautiful  in  taste.  There  was 
no  envy  in  the  breast  of  Johnson  when  he  advis- 
ed Mrs.  Thrale  not  to  purchase  Gray's  Letters  as 
trifling  and  dull,  no  more  than  in  Gray  himself 
when  he  sunk  the  poetical  character  of  Shenstone, 
his  simplicity  and  purity  of  feeling,  by  an  image 
of  ludicrous  contempt.  The  deficient  sympathy 
in  these  men  of  genius,  for  modes  of  feeling  op- 
posite to  their  own,  was  the  real  cause  of  their 
opinions  ;  and  thus  it  happens  that  even  superior 
genius  is  so  often  liable  to  be  unjust  and  false  in 
its  decisions. 

The  same  principle  operates  still  more  strik- 
ingly in  the  remarkable  contempt  of  men  of  geni- 
us for  those  pursuits  and  the  pursuers,  which 
require  talents  quite  distinct  from  their  own,  with 
a  cast  of  mind  thrown  by  nature  into  another 
mould.  Hence  we  must  not  be  surprised  at  the 
antipathies  of  Selden  and  Locke,  of  Longerue  and 
Buffon,  and  this  class  of  genius,  against  poetry 
au J  poets  ;  while  on  the  other  side,  these  under- 
value the  pursuits  of  the  antiquary,  the  naturalist, 
and  the  metaphysician,  by  their  own  favourite 


WAN*  OF  MUTUAL  ESTEEM. 

course  of  imagination.  We  can  only  understand 
in  the  degree  we  comprehend  ;  and  in  both  these 
cases  the  parties  will  be  found  quite  deficient  in 
those  qualities  of  genius  which  constitute  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  other.  A  professor  of  polite 
literature  condemned  the  study  of  botany,  as 
adapted  to  mediocrity  of  talent  and  only  de- 
manding patience  ;  but  Linnaeus  showed  how  a 
man  of  genius  becomes  a  creator  even  in  a  sci- 
ence which  seems  to  depend  only  on  order  and 
method.  It  will  not  be  a  question  with  some 
whether  a  man  must  be  endowed  with  the  ener- 
gy and  aptitude  of  genius,  to  excel  in  antiquari- 
anism,  in  natural  history,  Sec. ;  and  that  the  preju- 
dices raised  against  the  claims  of  such  to  the 
honours  of  genius  have  probably  arisen  from  the 
secluded  nature  of  their  pursuits,  and  the  little 
knowledge  the  men  of  wit  and  imagination  have 
of  these  persons,  who  live  in  a  society  of  their 
own.  On  this  subject  a  very  curious  circumstance 
lias  been  revealed  of  Peiresc,  whose  enthusiasm 
for  science  was  long  felt  throughout  Europe ;  his 
name  was  known  in  every  country,  and  his  death 
was  lamented  in  forty  languages  ;  yet  was  this  great 
man  unknown  to  several  men  of  genius  in  his  OWQ 
country ;  Rochefoucauld  declared  he  had  never 
heard  of  his  name,  and  Malherbe  wondered  why 
liis  death  created  so  universal  a  sensation.  Thus 


WANT  OF  MUTUAL  ESTEEM.  173 

we  see  the  classes  of  literature,  like,  the  planets 
of  Heaven,  revolving  like  distinct  worlds  ;  and  it 
would  not  be  less  absurd  for  the  inhabitants  of 
Venus  to  treat  with  contempt  the  powers  and 
faculties  of  those  of  Jupiter,  than  it  is  for  the 
men  of  wit  and  imagination,  those  of  the  men 
of  knowledge  and  curiosity.  They  are  incapa- 
ble of  exerting  the  peculiar  qualities  which  give 
a  real  value  to  these  pursuits,  and  therefore  they 
must  remain  ignorant  of  their  nature  and  their 
result. 

It  is  not  then  always  envy  or  jealousy  which 
induce  men  of  genius  to  undervalue  each  other; 
the  want  of  sympathy  will  sufficiently  account 
for  their  false  judgments.  Suppose  Newton, 
Quinault,  and  Machiavel,  accidentally  meeting 
together,  unknown  to  each  other,  would  they 
not  soon  have  desisted  from  the  vain  attempt  of 
communicating  their  ideas  ?  The  philosopher 
had  condemned  the  poet  of  the  Graces  as  an  in- 
tolerable trifler,  and  the  author  of  the  "  The 
Prince"  as  a  dark  political  spy.  Machiavel  had 
conceived  Newton  to  be  a  dreamer  among  the 
stars,  and  a  mere  almanack-maker  among  men  ; 
and  the  other  a  rhimer,  nauseously  doucereux. 
Quinault  might  have  imagined  he  was  seated 
between  two  madmen.  Having  annoyed  each 


174      WANT  OF  MUTUAL  ESTEEM. 

other  for  some  time,  they  would  have  relieved 
their  ennui  by  reciprocal  contempt,  and  each 
have  parted  with  a  determination  to  avoid  here- 
after two  disagreeable  companions.* 

*  See  Hclvetius,  De  FEsprit. 


(  175  ) 


CHAPTER  XI. 


SELF-PRAISE. 


VANITY,  egotism,  a  strong  sense  of  their  owe 
sufficiency,  form  another  accusation  against  men 
of  genius ;  but  the  complexion  of  self-praise 
must  alter  with  the  occasion ;  for  the  simplicity 
of  truth  may  appear  vanity,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  superiority  seem  envy — to  Mediocrity. 
It  is  we  who  do  nothing,  who  cannot  even 
imagine  any  thing  to  be  done,  who  are  so  much 
displeased  with  self-lauding,  self-love,  self-inde- 
pendence, self-admiration,  which  with  the  man 
of  genius  are  nothing  but  a  modification  of  the 
passion  of  glory. 

He  who  exults  in  himself  is  at  least  in  earnest ; 
but  he  who  refuses  to  receive  that  praise  in 
public  for  which  he  has  devoted  so  much  labour 
in  his  privacy,  is  not :  he  is  compelled  to  sup- 
press the  very  instinct  of  his  nature  ;  for  while 
we  censure  no  man  for  loving  fame,  but  only 


176  SELF-PRAISE. 

for  showing  us  how  much  he  is  possessed  by  the 
passion,  we  allow  him  to  create  the  appetite, 
but  we  deny  him  the  aliment.  Our  effeminate 
minds  are  the  willing  dupes  of  what  is  called  the 
modesty  of  genius,  or,  as  it  has  been  termed, 
"  the  polished  reserve  of  modern  times  ;"  and  this 
from  the  selfish  principle  that  it  serves  at  least 
to  keep  out  of  the  company  its  painful  pre-emi- 
nence. But  this  "  polished  reserve,"  like  some- 
thing as  fashionable,  the  ladies'  rouge,  at  first 
appearing  with  rather  too  much  colour,  will 
in  the  heat  of  an  evening,  be  dying  away,  till 
the  true  complexion  comes  out  We  know  well 
the  numerous  subterfuges,  of  these  modest  men 
of  genius,  to  extort  that  praise  from  their  pri- 
vate circle  which  is  thus  openly  denied  them. 
Have  they  not  been  taken  by  surprise,  en- 
larging their  own  panegyric,  which  might  rival 
Pliny's  on  Trajan,  for  care  and  copiousness? 
or  impudently  veiling  their  naked  beauty  with 
the  transparency  of  a  third  person  ?  or  never 
prefixing  their  name  to  the  volume,  which 
they  would  not  easily  forgive  a  friend  to  pass 
unnoticed. 

The  love  of  praise  is  instinctive  in  the  nature 
gf  men  of  genius.  Their  praise  is  the  foot  on 
which  the  past  rests,  and  the  wheel  on  which  the 


SfcLF-PRAISE.  177 

future  rolls.  The  generous  qualities  and  the 
virtues  of  a  man  of  genius  are  really  produced 
by  the  applause  conferred  on  him.  To  him 
whom  the  world  admires,  the  happiness  of  the 
world  must  be  dear,  said  Madame  De  Stael. 
Like  the  North  American  Indian,  (for  the  savage 
and  the  man  of  genius  preserve  the  genuine  feel- 
ings of  Nature,)  he  would  listen  to  his  own 
name,  when  amidst  his  circle  they  chaunt  their 
gods  and  their  heroes.  The  honest  savages  laud 
the  worthies  among  themselves,  as  well  as  their 
departed;  and  when  an  auditor  hears  his  own 
name,  he  answers  by  a  cry  of  pleasure  and  of 
pride.  But  pleasure  and  pride  in  his  own  name 
must  raise  no  emotion  in  the  breast  of  genius, 
amidst  a  polished  circle  :  to  bring  himself  down 
to  them,  he  must  start  at  a  compliment,  and  turn 
away  even  from  one  of  his  own  votaries. 

But  this,  it  seems,  is  not  always  the  case  with 
men  of  genius,  since  the  accusation  we  are  no- 
ticing has  been  so  often  reiterated.  Take  from  ' 
some  that  supreme  opinion  of  themselves,  that 
pride  of  exultation,  and  you  crush  the  germ  of 
their  excellence.  Many  vast  designs  must  have 
perished  in  the  conception,  had  not  their  authors 
breathed  this  vital  air  of  self-delight,  this  energy 
of  vanity,  so  operative  in  great  undertakings. 


178  SELF-PRAISE. 

We  have  recently  seen  this  principle  in  the  litera- 
ry character  unfold  itself  in  the  life  of  the  late 
Bishop  of  Landaff:  whatever  he  did,  he  felt  it 
was  done  as  a  master ;  whatever  he  wrote,  it  was 
as  he  once  declared,  the  best  work  on  the  subject 
yet  written.  It  was  this  feeling  with  which  he 
emulated  Cicero  in  retirement  or  in  action. 
"  When  I  am  dead,  you  will  not  soon  meet  with 
another  John  Hunter,"  said  the  great  anatomist, 
to  one  of  his  garrulous  friends.  An  apology  is 
formed  for  relating  the  fact,  but  the  weakness  is 
only  in  the  apology.  Corneille  has  given  a  very 
noble  full-length  of  the  sublime  egotism  which 
accompanied  him  through  life  :*•  and  I  doubt  if 
we  had  any  such  author  in  the  present  day,  whe- 
ther he  would  dare  to  be  so  just  to  himself,  and 
so  hardy  to  the  public.  The  self-praise  of  Buffbn 
at  least  equalled  his  genius ;  and  the  inscription 
beneath  his  statue  in  the  library  of  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes,  which  I  was  told  was  raised  to  him 
in  his  life  time,  exceeds  all  panegyric  ; — it  places 
him  alone  in  Nature,  as  the  first  and  the  last  inter- 
preter of  her  works.  He  said  of  the  great  geniuses 
of  modern  times,  that  there  were  not  more  than 
five, — "Newton,  Bacon,  Leibnitz,  Montesquieu, 
and  Myself."  It  was  in  this  spirit  that  he  con- 

*  See  it  versified  in  Curiosities  of  Literature;  vol.  ii. 


SELF-PRAISE. 


179 


ceived  and  terminated  his  great  work?,  that  he 
sat  in  patient  meditation  at  his  desk  for  half  a 
century,  and  that  all  Europe,  even  in  a  state  of 
ivar,  bowed  to  the  modern  Pliny. 

Nor  is  the  vanity  of  Buffon,  and  Voltaire,  and 
Rousseau  so  purely  national  as  some  will  suppose ; 
for  men  of  genius  in  all  ages  have  expressed  a 
consciousness  of  the  internal  force  of  genius. 
No  one  felt  this  self-exultation  more  potent  than 
our  Hobbes,  who  has  indeed,  in  his  controversy 
with  Wallis,  asserted  that  there  may  be  nothing 
more  just  than  self-commendation  ;*  and  De 
Thou,  one  of  the  most  noble-minded,  the  most 
thinking,  the  most  impartial  of  historians,  in  the 
Memoirs  of  his  own  life,  composed  in  the  third 
person,  has  surprised  and  somewhat  puzzled 
the  critics,  by  that  frequent  distribution  of  self- 
commendation  which  they  knew  not  how  to 
accord  with  the  modesty  and  gravity  with 
which  he  was  so  amply  endowed.  After  his 
great  and  solemn  labour,  amidst  the  injustice 
of  his  persecutors,  that  great  man  had  sufficient 
experience  of  his  own  merits  to  assert  them. 
Kepler,  amidst  his  great  discoveries,  looks  down 
like  a  superior  being  on  other  men.  Thus  hf> 

*  See  Quarrels  of  Authors,  vol.  Hi.  p.  113, 


180  SELF-PRAISE, 

breaks  forth  in  glory  and  egotism  :  "  I  dare  insult 
mankind  by  confessing  that  I  am  he  who  has 
turned  science  to  advantage.  If  I  am  par- 
doned, I  shall  rejoice ;  if  blamed,  I  shall  endure 
it.  The  die  is  cast ;  I  have  written  this  book, 
and  whether  it  be  read  by  posterity  or  by  my 
contemporaries,  is  of  no  consequence ;  it  may 
Avell  wait  for  a  reader  during  one  century,  when 
God  himself  during  six  thousand  years  has 
waited  for  an  observer  like  myself."  He  predicts 
that  "  his  discoveries  would  be  verified  in  suc- 
ceeding ages,"  yet  were  Kepler  now  among  us  in 
familiar  society,  we  should  be  invited  to  inspect 
a  monster  of  inordinate  vanity.  But  it  was  this 
solitary  majesty,  this  lofty  conception  of  their  ge- 
nius, which  hovered  over  the  sleepless  pillow,  and 
charmed  the  solitude,  of  Bacon,  of  Newton,  and 
of  Montesquieu  ;  of  Ben  Jonson,  of  Milton, 
and  Corneille  ;  and  of  Michael  Angelo.  Such 
men  of  genius  anticipate  their  contemporaries, 
and  know  they  are  creators,  long  before  the  tar- 
dy consent  of  the  Public ; 

"  They  see  the  laurel  which  entwines  their  bust, 
They  mark  the  pomp  whieh  consecrates  their  dust, 
Shake  off  the  dimness  which  obscures  them  now, 
And  feel  the  future  glory  bind  their  brow." 

Sm e dletfa  Prescien cf 


SELF-PRAISE  igj 

To  be  admired,  is  the  noble  simplicity  of  the 
Ancients  in  expressing  with  ardour  the  conscious- 
ness of  genius,  and  openly  claiming  that  praise 
by  which  it  was  nourished.  The  ancients  were 
not  infected  by  our  spurious  effeminate  modesty. 
Socrates,  on  the  day  of  his  trial,  firmly  commend- 
ed himself :  he  told  the  various  benefits  he  had 
conferred  on  his  country. — "  Instead  of  con- 
demning me  for  imaginary  crimes,  you  would  do 
better,  considering  my  poverty,  to  order  me  to  be 
maintained  out  of  the  public  treasury."  Epicu- 
rus writing  to  a  minister  of  state,  declares — "  If 
you  desire  glory,  nothing  can  bestow  it  more  than 
the  letters  I  write  to  you  :"  and  Seneca,  in  quot- 
ing these  words,  adds — "  What  Epicurus  promis- 
ed to  his  friend,  that,  my  Lucilius,  I  promise 
you."  Orna  me  !  was  the  constant  cry  of  Cicero  5 
and  he  desires  the  historian  Lucceius  to  write 
separately  the  conspiracy  of  Catiline,  and  pub- 
lish quickly,  that  while  he  yet  lived  he  might 
taste  of  the  sweetness  of  his  glory.  Horace  and 
Ovid  were  equally  sensible  to  their  immortality : 
but  what  modern  poet  would  be  tolerated  with 
such  an  avowal  ?  Yet  Dryden  honestly  declares 
that  it  was  better  for  him  to  own  this  failing  of 
vanity,  than  the  world  to  do  it  for  him ;  and  adds 
"  For  what  other  reason  have  I  spent  my  life  in 
so  unprofitable  a  study  ?  Why  am  I  grown  old  in 


SELF-PRAISE. 

seeking  so  barren  a  reward  as  fame  ?  The  same 
parts  and  application  which  have  made  me  a 
poet,  might  have  raised  me  to  any  honours 
of  the  gown."  Was  not  Cervantes  very  sensible 
to  his  own  merits,  when  a  rival  started  up ;  and 
did  he  not  assert  them  too,  when  passing  sentence 
on  the  bad  books  of  the  times,  he  distinguishes 
his  own  work  by  a  handsome  compliment  ?  Nor 
was  Butler  less  proud  of  his  own  merits  ;  for  he 
has  done  ample  justice  to  his  Hudibras,  and  trac- 
ed out,  with  great  self-delight,  its  variety  of  ex- 
cellencies. Richardson,  the  novelist,  exhibits 
one  of  the  most  striking  instances  of  what  is  call- 
ed literary  vanity — the  delight  of  an  author  in  his 
works ;  he  has  pointed  out  all  the  beauties  of  his 
three  great  works,  in  various  manners.*  He  al- 
ways taxed  a  visitor  by  one  of  his  long  letters. 
It  was  this  intense  self-delight,  which  produced 
his  voluminous  labours. 

There  are  certain  authors  whose  very  existence 
seems  to  require  a  high  conception  of  their  own 
talents ;  and  who  must,  as  some  animals  appear 
to  do,  furnish  the  means  of  life  out  of  their  own 
substance.  These  men  of  genius  open  their  ca- 
reer with  peculiar  tastes,  or,  with  a  predilection  for 

*  I  have  observed  thepi  in  Curiosities  of  Literature,  vol.  ii 


SELF-PRAISE. 

some  great  work  ;  in  a  word,  with  many  unpopu- 
lar dispositions.  Yet  we  see  them  magnanimous, 
though  defeated,  proceeding  with  the  public  feel- 
ing against  them.  At  length  we  view  them  rank- 
ing with  their  rivals.  Without  having  yielded  up 
their  peculiar  tastes  or  their  incorrigible  vitious- 
ness,  they  have  however,  heightened  their  indi- 
vidual excellencies.  No  human  opinion  can 
change  their  self  opinion  ;  alive  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  their  powers,  their  pursuits  are  placed 
above  impediment,  and  their  great  views  can 
suffer  no  contraction.  These  men  of  genius  bear 
a  charmed  mail  on  their  breast ;  "  hopeless,  not 
heartless,"  may  be  often  the  motto  of  their  en- 
sign ;  and  if  they  do  not  always  possess  reputa- 
tion, they  still  look  for  fame ;  for  these  do  not 
necessarily  accompany  each  other. 

Acknowledge,  too,  that  an  author  must  be  more 
sensible  to  his  real  merits,  while  he  is  unques- 
tionably much  less  to  his  defects,  than  most 
of  his  readers ;  the  author  not  only  comprehends 
his  merits  better,  because  they  have  passed 
through  a  long  process  in  his  mind,  but  he  is 
familiar  with  every  part,  while  the  reader  has  had 
but  a  vague  notion  of  the  whole.  Why  does 
the  excellent  work,  by  repetition,  rise  in  interest  ? 
because  in  obtaining  this  gradual  intimacy  with 


XQ4  SELF-PRAISE. 

an  author,  we  appear  to  recover  half  the  genius 
we  had  lost  on  a  first  perusal.  The  work  of 
genius  too  is  associated,  in  the  mind  of  the  au- 
thor, with  much  more  than  it  contains.  Why 
are  great  men  often  found  greater  than  the 
books  they  write  ?  Ask  the  man  of  genius,  if  he 
has  written  all  he  wished  he  could  have  written  ? 
Has  he  satisfied  himself,  in  this  work  for  which 
you  accuse  his  pride  ?  The  true  supplement  has 
not  always  accompanied  the  work  itself.  The 
mind  of  the  reader  has  the  limits  of  a  mere  re- 
cipient, while  that  of  the  author,  even  after  his 
work,  is  teeming  with  creation.  ."  On  many 
occasions,  my  soul  seems  to  know  more  than 
it  can  say,  and  to  be  endowed  with  a  mind  by 
itself,  far  superior  to  the  mind  I  really  have," 
said  Marivaux,  with  equal  truth  and  happiness. 

With  these  explanations  of  what  are  called 
the  vanity  and  egotism  of  genius,  be  it  remember- 
ed, that  the  sense  of  their  own  sufficiency  is  as- 
sumed at  their  own  risk ;  the  great  man  who 
thinks  greatly  of  himself,  is  not  diminishing 
that  greatness,  in  heaping  fuel  on  his  fire.  With 
his  unlucky  brethren,  such  a  feeling  may  end  in 
4he  abarrations  of  harmless  madness;  as  it  hap- 
pened with  Percival  Stockdale.  He,  who  after 
a  parallel  between  himself  and  Charles  XII. 


SELF-PRAISE.  185 

of  Sweden,  concludes  that  "  some  parts  will 
be  to  his  advantage,  and  some  to  mine,"  but  in 
regard  to  fame, — the  main  object  between  Stock- 
dale  and  Charles  XII. — Percival  imagined  that 
"  his  own  will  not  probably  take  its  fixed  and 
immoveable  station,  and  shine  with  its  expanded 
and  permanent  splendour  till  it  consecrates  his 
ashes,  till  it  illumines  his  tomb."  After  this, 
the  reader,  who  may  never  have  heard  of  the 
name  of  Percival  Stockdale,  must  be  told,  that 
there  exist  his  own  "  Memoirs  of  his  Life  and 
Writings."*  The  memoirs  of  a  scribbler  are  in- 
structive to  literary  men ;  to  correct,  and  to  be 
corrected,  should  be  their  daily  practice,  that 
they  may  be  taught  not  only  to  exult  in  them- 
selves, but  to  fear  themselves. 

It  is  hard  to  refuse  these  men  of  genius  that 
aura  vitalis,  of  which  they  are  so  apt  to  be  liber- 
al to  others.  Are  they  not  accused  of  the  mean- 
est adulations?  When  a  young  writer  finds  the 
notice  of  a  person  of  some  eminence,  he  has 
expressed  himself  in  language  which  transcended 
that  of  mortality ;  a  finer  reason  than  reason 
itself,  inspired  it;  the  sensation  has  been  ex- 
pressed with  all  its  fulness,  by  Milton, 

*I  have  sketched  a  character  of  Percival  Stockdale,  in 
Calamities  of  Authors,  ii.  313,  it  was  taken  ad  vivum. 


1S6  SELF-PRAISE. 

"  The  debt  immense  of  endless  gratitude." 

Who  ever  pays  an  "  immense  debt,"  in  small 
sums?  Every  man  of  genius  has  left  such  ho- 
nourable traces  of  his  private  affections, — from 
Locke,  whose  dedication  of  his  great  work  is 
more  adulative  than  could  be  imagined,  from 
a  temperate  philosopher,  to  Churchill,  whose 
warm  eulogiums  on  his  friends  so  beautifully 
contrast  with  the  dark  and  evil  passions  of  his 
satire.  Even  in  advanced  age,  the  man  of  genius 
dwells  on  the  nutritious  praise  he  caught  in  his 
youth  from  veteran  genius;  that  seed  sinks 
deep  into  a  genial  soil,  roots  there,  and,  like 
the  aloe,  will  flower  at  the  end  of  life.  When 
Virgil  was  yet  a  youth,  Cicero  heard  one  of  his 
eclogues,  and  exclaimed  with  his  accustomed 
warmth, 

Magna  spes  altera  Romae  ! 

rt  The  second  great  hope  of  Rome  "  intending 
by  the  first,  either  himself  or  Lucretius.  The 
words  of  Cicero  were  the  secret  honey  on  which 
the  imagination  of  Virgil  fed  for  many  a  year ; 
for  in  one  of  his  latest  productions,  the  twelfth 
book  of  the  JEneid,  he  applies  these  very  words 


SELF-PRAISE.  157 

to  Ascanius ;  the  voice  of  Cicero  had  hung  for 
ever  in  his  ear. 

Such  then,  is  the  extreme  susceptibility  of 
praise  in  men  of  genius,  and  not  less  their  exuber- 
ant sensibility  to  censure;  I  have  elsewhere 
shown  how  some  have  died  of  criticism.  The 
Abbe  Cassagne  felt  so  acutely  the  severity  of 
Boileau,  that  in  the  prime  of  life  he  fell  me- 
lancholy, and  died  insane.  I  am  informed  that 
the  poet,  Scott  of  Amwell,  could  never  recover 
from  a  ludicrous  criticism,  written  by  a  physician, 
who  never  pretended  to  poetical  taste.  Some, 
like  Racine,  have  died  of  a  simple  rebuke,  and 
some  have  found  an  epigram,  as  one  who  fell  a 
victim  to  one,  said,  "  fasten  on  their  hearts,  and 
have  been  thrown  into  a  slow  fever."  Pope  has 
been  seen  writhing  in  anguish  on  his  chair ;  and 
it  is  told  of  Montesquieu,  that  notwithstanding 
the  greatness  of  his  character,  he  was  so  much 
affected  by  the  perpetual  criticisms  on  his  work 
on  Laws,  that  they  hastened  his  death,  The 
morbid  feelings  of  Hawkesworth  closed  in  suicide. 
The  self-love  of  genius  is,  perhaps,  much  more 
delicate  than  gross. 

But  alas,  their  vengeance  as  quickly  kindled, 
lasts  as  long !  Genius  is  a  dangerous  gift  of  na- 


jgg  SELF-PRAISE. 

lure  ;  with  a  keener  relish  for  enjoyment,  and 
with  passions  more  effervescent,  the  same  materi- 
al forms  a  Catiline  and  a  Cromwell,  or  a  Cicero 
and  a  Bacon.  Plato,  in  his  visionary  man  of 
genius,  lays  great  stress  on  his  possessing  the  most 
vehement  passions,  while  he  adds  reason  to  res- 
train them.  But  it  is  imagination  which  tor- 
ments even  their  inflammable  senses ;  give  to  the 
same  vehement  passion  a  different  direction,  and 
it  is  glory,  or  infamy. 

Si  je  n'etois  Caesar,  j'aurois  etc  Brutus." 

Voltaire. 

The  imagination  of  genius  is  the  hreath  of  its 
life,  which  breeds  its  own  disease.  How  are  we  to 
describe  symptoms  which  come  from  one  source, 
but  show  themselves  in  all  forms  ?  It  is  now  an 
intermittent  fever,  now  a  silent  delirium,  an  hys- 
terical affection,  and  now  a  horrid  hypochondri- 
asm.  Have  we  no  other  opiate  to  still  the  agony, 
no  other  cordial  to  send  its  warmth  to  the  heart, 
than  Plato's  reason  ?  Must  men  of  genius,  who 
so  rarely  pass  through  this  slow  curative  method, 
remain  with  all  their  tortured  and  torturing  pas- 
sions about  them,  often  self-disgusted,  self-humil- 
iated ?  The  enmities  of  genius  are  often  connect- 
ed with  their  morbid  imagination ;  these  origin- 


SELF-PRAISE,  189 

ate  in  casual  slights,  or  in  unguarded  expressions, 
or  in  hasty  opinions,  or  in  a  witty  derision,  or  even 
in  the  obtruding  goodness  of  tender  admonition — 
The  man  of  genius  broods  over  the  phantom  that 
darkens  his  feelings,  ancl  sharpens  his  vindictive 
fangs,  in  a  libel,  called  his  memoirs,  or  in  another 
public  way,  called  a  criticism.  We  are  told,  that 
Comines  the  historian,  when  residing  at  the  court 
of  the  Count  de  Charolois  afterwards  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  one  day  returning  from  hunting,  with 
inconsiderate  jocularity  sat '  down  before  the 
Count,  ordering  the  Prince  to  pull  off  his  boots  ; 
the  Count  would  not  affect  greatness,  and  having 
executed  his  commission,  in  return  for  the  prince- 
ly amusement,  the  Count  dashed  the  boot  on 
Comines's  nose,  which  bled  ;  and  from  that  time, 
he  was  mortified  at  the  Count  of  Burgundy,  by 
retaining  the  nick-name  of  the  booted  head.  The 
blow  rankled  in  the  heart  of  the  man  of  genius, 
and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  has  come  down  to  us 
in  his  memoirs,  blackened  by  his  vengeance. 
Many,  unknown  to  their  readers,  like  Comines, 
have  had  a  booted  head,  but  the  secret  poison  is 
distilled  on  their  lasting  page.  I  have  elsewhere 
fully  written  a  tale  of  literary  hatred,  where  is 
seen  a  man  of  genius,  devoting  a  whole  life  in 
harassing  the  industry  or  the  genius  which  he 
himself  could  not  attain,  in  the  character  of  Gil- 


}90  SELF-PRAISE. 

bert  Stuart.*  The  French  Revolution,  among  its 
illustrations  of  the  worst  human  passions  exhibits 
one,  in  Collot  d'Herbois ;  when  this  wretch  was 
tossed  up  in  the  storm,  to  the  summit  of  power,  a 
monstrous  imagination  seized  him  ;  he  projected 
rasing  the  city  of  Lyons  and  massacring  its  inha- 
bitants. He  had  even  the  heart  to  commence, 
and  to  continue  this  conspiracy  against  human 
nature ;  the  ostensible  motive  was  royalism,  but 
the  secret  one  was  literary  vengeance  !  as  wretch- 
ed a  poet  and  actor  as  a  man,  he  had  been  hissed 
off  the  theatre  in  Lyons,  and  his  dark  remorseless 
genius  resolved  to  repay  that  ignominy,  by  the 
blood  of  its  citizens  and  the  very  walls  of  the 
city.  Is  there  but  one  Collot  d'Herbois  in  the 
universe  ?  When  the  imagination  of  genius  be- 
comes its  madness,  even  the  worst  of  human  be- 
ings is  only  a  genus. 

*  See  Calamities  of  Authors,  ii.  49. 


(  191 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 


WHEN  the  temper  and  the  leisure  of  the  literary 
character  are  alike  broken,  even  his  best  works, 
the  too  faithful  mirrors  of  his  state  of  mind,  will 
participate  of  its  inequalities ;  and  surely  the  in- 
cubations of  genius  in  its  delicate  and  shadowy 
combinations,  are  not  less  sensible  in  their  opera- 
tion than  the  composition  of  sonorous  bodies, 
where,  while  the  warm  metal  is  settling  in  the 
mould,  even  an  unusual  vibration  of  the  air, 
during  the  moment  of  fusion,  will  injure  the 

tone. 
\ 

Some  of  the  conspicuous  blemishes  of  several 
great  compositions  may  be  attributed  to  the  do- 
mestic infelicities  of  their  authors.  The  desulto- 
ry life  of  Camoens  is  imagined  to  be  perceptible 
in  the  deficient  connection  of  his  epic  ;  and  Mil- 
ton's peculiar  situation  and  divided  family  prevent- 


192          T7*E  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

ed  those  passages  from  being  erased,  which 
otherwise  had  not  escaped  from  his  revising 
hand — he  felt  himself  in  the  situation  of  his 
Sampson  Agonistes,  whom  he  so  pathetically 
describes,  as 

"  His  foes  derision,  captive,  poor  and  blind." 

Cervantes,  through  precipitate  publication,  fell 
into  those  slips  of  memory  observable  in  his  satir- 
ical romance.  The  careless  rapid  lines  of  Dry- 
den  are  justly  attributed  to  his  distress,  and  he 
indeed  pleads  for  his  inequalities  from  his  domes- 
tic circumstances.  Johnson  silently,  but  eagerly, 
often  corrected  the  Ramblers  in  their  successive 
editionSj  of  which  so  many  had  been  despatched 
in  haste.  The  learned  Greaves  offered  some  ex- 
cuses for  his  errors  in  his  edition  of  Abulfeda, 
from  "  his  being  five  years  encumbered  with  law- 
suits and  diverted  from  his  studies."  When  at 
length  he  returned  to  them,  he  expresses  his 
surprise  <:  at  the  pains  he  had  formerly  under- 
gone," but  of  which  he  now  felt  himself  "  un- 
willing, he  knew  not  how,  of  again  undergoing.'* 
Goldoni,  when  at  the  bar,  abandoned  his  comic 
talent  for  several  years ;  and  having  resumed  it, 
bis  first  comedy  totally  failed  :  "  My  head,"  says 
lie,  "  was  occupied  with  my  professional  em- 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 
ployment,  I  was  uneasy  in  mind  and  in  bad  hu- 


The  best  years  of  Mengs's  life  were  em- 
bittered by  the  misery  and  the  harshness  of  his 
father,  who  himself  a  poor  artist,  and  with 
poorer  feelings,  converted  his  home  into  a 
prison-house,  forced  his  son  into  the  slavery  of 
stipulated  task-work,  while  his  bread  and  water 
were  the  only  fruits  of  the  fine  arts;  in  this 
domestic  persecution,  from  which  he  was  at 
length  obliged  to  fly,  he  contracted  those  morose 
and  saturnine  habits,  which  for  ever  after  shut 
up  the  ungenial  Mengs  in  the  dark  solitude  of 
his  soul.  It  has  been  said  of  Alonso  Cano,  a 
celebrated  Spanish  painter,  that  he  would  have 
carried  his  art  much  higher  had  not  the  un- 
ceasing persecution  of  the  inquisitors  entirely 
deprived  him  of  that  tranquillity  so  necessary 
to  the  very  existence  of  art.  The  poet  Rous- 
seau passed  half  his  life  in  trouble,  in  anger,  and 
in  despair,  from  the  severe  persecution,  or  the 
justice,  of  his  enemies,  respecting  an  anonymous 
libel  Attributed  to  him ;  his  temper  was  poisoned, 
and  he  poisoned.  Ovid,  in  exile  on  the  barren 
shores  of  Tomos,  deserted  by  his  genius,  even  in 
his  copious  Tristia,  loses  the  luxuriance  of  his 
fancy.  The  reason  which  Rousseau  alleges  for 
the  cynical  spleen  which  so  frequently  breathes' 


194          THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

forth  in  his  works,  shows  how  the  domestic  char- 
acter of  the  man  of  genius  leaves  itself  behind 
in  his  productions.  After  describing  the  infelici- 
ty of  his  domestic  affairs  occasioned  by  the 
mother  of  Theresa,  and  Theresa  herself,  both 
women  of  the  lowest  order,  he  adds  on  this 
wretched  marriage,  "  these  unexpected  dis- 
agreeable events,  in  a  state  of  my  own  choice  9 
plunged  me  into  literature,  to  give  a  new  direc- 
tion and  diversion  to  my  mind ;  and  in  all  my 
first  works,  I  scattered  that  bilious  humour 
which  had  occasioned  this  very  occupation." 
Our  author's  character  in  his  works  was  the 
very  opposite  one  in  which  he  appeared  to  these 
low  people  ;  they  treated  his  simplicity  as  utter 
silliness ;  feeling  his  degradation  among  them, 
his  personal  timidity  assumed  a  tone  of  bold* 
ness  and  originality  in  his  writings,  while  a 
strong  sense  of  shame  heightened  his  causticity, 
contemning  that  urbanity  he  knew  not  to  prac^ 
tise.  His  miserable  subservience  to  these  people 
was  the  real  cause  of  his  oppressed  spirit  calling 
out  for  some  undefined  freedom  in  society. 
Thus  the  real  Rousseau,  with  all  his  disordered 
feelings,  only  appeared  in  his  writings ;  the 
secrets  of  his  heart  were  in  his  pen. 

The  home  of  the  literary  character  should  be 
the  abode  of  repose  and  of  silence.     There  must 


JTHE  DOMESTICTLIFE  OF  GENIUS.  195 

iie  look  for  the  feasts  of  study,  in  progressive  and 
alternate  labours ;  a  taste  "  which,"  says  Gibbon, 
"  I  would  not  exchange  for  the  treasures  of  India." 
Rousseau  had  always  a  work  going  on,  for 
rainy  days  and  spare  hours,  such  as  his  dictionary 
of  music ;  a  variety  of  works  never  tired ;  the 
single  one  only  exhausted.  Metastasio  talks  with 
delight  of  his  variety,  which  resembled  the  fruits 
in  the  garden  of  Armida, 

E  mentre  spunta  Tun,  1'altro  mature. 

While  one  matures,  the  other  buds  arid  blows. 

Nor  is  it  always  fame,  nor  any  lower  motive, 
which  may  induce  him  to  hold  an  indefatigable 
pen ;  another  equally  powerful  exists,  which 
must  remain  inexplicable  to  him  who  knows  not 
to  escape  from  the  listlessness  of  life — the  passion 
for  literary  occupation.  He  whose  eye  can  only 
measure  the  space  occupied  by  the  voluminous 
labours  of  the  elder  Pliny,  of  a  Mazzuchelli,  a 
Muratori,  a  Montfaucon,  and  a  Gough,  all  men 
who  laboured  from  the  love  of  labour,  and  can  see 
nothing  in  that  space  but  the  industry  which  filled 
it,  is  like  him  who  only  views  a  city  at  a  distance 
— the  streets  and  the  squares,  and  all  the  life  and 
population  within,  he  can  never  know.  These 
literary  characters  projected  these  works  as  so 
many  schemes  to  escape  from  uninteresting  pur- 
suits \  and,  in  these  folios?  how  many  evils  of  life' 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

did  they  bury,  while  their  happiness  expanded 
with  their  volume.  Aulus  Gellius  desired  to  live 
no  longer,  than  he  was  able  to  retain  the  faculty 
of  writing  and  observing.  The  literary  character 
must  grow  as  impassioned  with  his  subject  as  ^Elian 
with  his  History  of  Animals ;  "  wealth  and  hon- 
our I  might  have  obtained  at  the  courts  of 
princes;  but  I  preferred  the  delight  of  multi- 
plying my  knowledge.  I  am  aware  that  the  ava- 
ricious and  the  ambitious  will  accuse  me  of  folly, 
but  I  have  always  found  most  pleasure  in  observ- 
ing the  nature  of  animals,  studying  their  charac- 
ter, and  writing  their  history."  Even  with  those 
who  have  acquired  their  celebrity,  the  love  of 
literary  labour  is  not  diminished,  a  circumstance 
recorded  by  the  younger  Pliny  of  Livy ;  in  a 
preface  to  one  of  his  lost  books,  that  historian 
had  said  that  he  had  got  sufficient  glory  by  his 
former  writings  on  the  Roman  history,  and  might 
now  repose  in  silence  ;  but  his  mind  was  so  rest- 
less and  so  abhorrent  of  indolence,  that  it  only 
felt  its  existence  in  literary  exertion.  Such  are 
the  minds  who  are  without  hope,  if  they  axe 
without  occupation. 

Amidst  the  repose  and  silence  of  study,  de- 
lightful to  the  literary  character,  are  the  soothing 
interruptions  of  the  voices  of  those  whom  he 
loves;  these  shall  re-animate  his  languor,  and 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS.  197 

moments  of  inspiration  shall  be  caught  in  the 
emotions  of  affection,  when  a  father  or  a  friend, 
a  wife,  a  daughter,  or  a  sister,  become  the  par- 
ticipators of  his  own  tastes,  the  companions  of 
his  studies,  and  identify  their  happiness  with  his 
fame.  If  Horace  was  dear  to  his  friends,  he  der 
clares  they  owed  him  to  his  father, 


-  purus  et  insons 


(Ut  me  collaudem)  si  vivo  et  carus  amicis, 

Causa  fuit  Pater  his. 

Lib.  i.  Sat.  vi.  v.  69, 

If  pure  and  innocent,  if  dear  (forgive 
These  little  praises)  to  ray  friends  I  live, 
My  father  was  the  cause. 

Francis. 

This  intelligent  father,  an  obscure  tax-gather- 
er, discovered  the  propensity  of  Horace's  mind  ; 
for  he  removed  the  boy  of  genius  from  a  rural 
occlusion  to  the  metropolis,  anxiously  attending 
on  him  to  his  various  masters.  Vitruvius  pours 
forth  a  grateful  prayer  to  the  memory  of  his  pa- 
rents, who  had  instilled  into  his  soul  a  love  for 
literary  and  philosophical  subjects.  The  father 
of  Gibbon  urged  him  to  literary  distinction,  and 
the  dedication  of  the  "  Essay  on  literature,"  to 
thai  father,  connected  with  his  subsequent  labour, 
shows  the  force  of  the  excitement.  The  son  of 
JBuffon  one  day  surprised  his  father  by  the  sight 


jgg  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  Of  GENIUS 

of  a  column,  which  he  had  raised  to  the  memory 
of  his  father's  eloquent  genius.  "  It  will  do  you 
honour,"  observed  the  Gallic  sage.  And  when 
that  son  in  the  revolution  was  led  to  the  guillo- 
tine, he  ascended  in  silence,  so  impressed  with  his 
father's  fame,  that  he  only  told  the  people,  "  I  am 
the  son  of  Buffon!"  It  was  the  mother  of  Burns 
who  kindled  his  genius  by  delighting  his  child- 
hood with  the  recitations  of  the  old  Scottish  bal- 
lads, while  to  his  father  he  attributed  his  cast  of  cha- 
racter ;  as  Bishop  Watson  has  recently  traced  to 
the  affectionate  influence  of  his  mother,  the  reli- 
gious feelings  which  he  declares  he  had  inherited 
from  her.  There  is.  what  may  be  called,  family 
genius ;  in  the  home  of  a  man  of  genius  he  dif- 
fuses an  electrical  atmosphere  ;  his  own  pre-em- 
inence strikes  out  talents  in  all.  Evelyn,  in  his 
beautiful  retreat  at  Sayes  Court,  had  inspired  his 
family  with  that  variety  of  tastes  which  he  him- 
self was  spreading  throughout  the  nation.  His 
son  translated  Rapin's  "  Gardens,"  which  poem 
the  father  proudly  preserved  in  his  "  Sylva ;"  his 
]ady,  ever  busied  in  his  study,  excelled  in  the  arts 
her  husband  loved,  and  designed  the  frontispiece 
to  his  Lucretius  ;  she  was  the  cultivator  of  their 
celebrated  garden,  which  served  as  "  an  exam- 
ple," of  his  great  work  on  "  forest  trees."  Cow- 
ley,  who  has  commemorated  Evelyn's  love  of 
books  and  gardens,  has  delightfully  applied  them 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS.  199 

to  his  lady,  in  whom,  says  the  bard,  Evelyn  meet? 
both  pleasures ; 

tc  The  fairest  garden  in  her  looks, 
And  in  her  mind  the  wisest  books." 

The  house  of  Haller  resembled  a  temple  conse- 
crated to  science  and  the  arts,  for  the  votaries 
were  his  own  family.  The  universal  acquire- 
ments of  Haller,  were  possessed  in  some  degree 
by  every  one  under  his  roof;  and  their  studious 
delight  in  transcribing  manuscripts,  in  consulting 
authors,  in  botanising,  drawing  and  colouring  the 
plants  under  his  eye,  formed  occupations  which 
made  the  daughters  happy  and  the  sons  eminent. 
The  painter  Stella  inspired  his  family  to  copy 
his  fanciful  inventions,  and  the  playful  graver  of 
Claudine  Stella,  his  niece,  animated  his  "  Sports 
of  Children."  The  poems  of  the  late  Hurdis 
were  printed  by  the  hands  of  his  sisters. 

No  event  in  literary  history  is  more  impressive 
than  the  fate  of  Quintillian  ;  it  was  in  the  midst 
of  his  elaborate  work,  composed  to  form  the  lite- 
rary character  of  a  son,  his  great  hope,  that  he 
experienced  the  most  terrible  affliction  in  the 
domestic  life  of  genius — the  deaths  of  his  wife, 
and  one  child  after  the  other.  It  was  a  moral 
earthquake  with  a  single  survivor  amidst  the 
ruins.  An  awful  burst  of  parental  and  literary 


200  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

affliction  breaks  forth  in  Quintillian's  lamentation, 
— "  my  wealth,  and  my  writings,  the  fruits  of  a 
long  and  painful  life,  must  now  be  reserved  only 
for  strangers ;  all  I  possess  is  for  aliens  and  no 
longer  mine  !"  The  husband,  the  father,  and  the 
man  of  genius,  utter  one  cry  of  agony. 

Deprived  of  these  social  consolations,  we  see 
Johnson  call  about  him  those  whose  calamities 
exiled  them  from  society,  and  his  roof  lodges  the 
blind,  the  lame  and  the  poor ;  for  the  heart  of 
genius  must  possess  something  human  it  can  call 
its  own  to  be  kind  to.  Its  elevated  emotions*, 
even  in  domestic  life,  would  enlarge  the  moral 
vocabulary,  like  the  Abbe  de  Saint  Pierre,  who 
has  fixed  in  his  language  two  significant  words ; 
one  which  served  to  explain  the  virtue  most  fa- 
miliar to  him — bienfaisance ;  and  the  irritable 
vanity  magnifying  its  ephemeral  fame  th  e  sage 
reduced  to  a  mortifying  diminutive — la  gloriole. 

It  has  often  excited  surprise  that  men  of 
genius  eminent  in  the  world,  are  not  more  rever- 
enced than  other  men  in  their  domestic  circle. 
<\  The  disparity  between  the  public  and  the  pri- 
vate esteem  of  the  same  man  is  often  striking ; 
in  privacy  the  comic  genius  is  not  always  cheer- 
ful, the  sage  is  sometimes  ridiculous,  and  the  poet 
not  delightful.  The  golden  hour  of  invention 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

must  terminate  like  other  hours,  and  when  the 
man  of  genius  returns  to  the  cares,  the  duties,  the 
vexations,  and  the  amusements  of  life,  his  com- 
panions behold  him  as  one  of  themselves — the 
creature  of  habits  and  infirmities.  Men  of 
genius,  like  the  deities  of  Homer,  are  deities 
only  in  their  "  Heaven  of  Invention  :"  mixing 
with  mortals,  they  shed  their  blood  like  Venuss 
or  bellow  like  Mars.  Yet  in  the  business  of  life 
the  cultivators  of  science  and  the  arts,  with  all 
their  simplicity  of  feeling  and  generous  openness 
about  them,  do  not  meet  on  equal  terms  with 
other  men ;  their  frequent  abstractions  calling 
off  the  mind  to  whatever  enters  into  its  favourite 
pursuits,  render  them  greatly  inferior  to  others 
in  practical  and  immediate  observation.  A  man 
of  genius  may  know  the  whole  map  of  the  world 
of  human  nature  ;  but,  like  the  great  geographer, 
may  be  apt  to  be  lost  in  the  wood,  which  any 
one  in  the  neighbourhood  knows  better  than  him. 
"  The  conversation  of  a  poet,"  says  Goldsmith, 
"  is  that  of  a  man  of  sense,  while  his  actions  are 
those  of  a  fool."  Genius,  careless  of  the  future, 
and  absent  in  the  present,  avoids  to  mix  too 
deeply  in  common  life  as  its  business ;  hence  it 
becomes  an  easy  victim  to  common  fools  and  vul- 
gar villains.  "  F  love  my  family's  welfare,  but  I 
cannot  be  so  foolish  as  to  make  myself  the  slave 
to  the  minute  affairs  of  a  house,"  said  Montes- 


202  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

quieu.  The  story  told  of  a  man  of  learning  i& 
probably  true,  however  ridiculous  ;  deeply  occu- 
pied in  his  library,  one,  rushing  in,  informed  him 
that  the  house  was  on  fire !  "  Go  to  my  wife — 
these  matters  belong  to  her!"  pettishly  replied 
the  interrupted  student.  Bacon  sat  at  one  end 
of  his  table  wrapt  in  many  a  reverie,  while  at 
the  other  the  creatures  about  him  were  trafficking 
with  his  honour,  and  ruining  his  good  name  ;  "  I 
am  better  fitted  for  this,"  said  that  great  man 
once,  holding  out  a  book,  "  than  for  the  life  I 
have  of  late  led."  Buffon,  who  consumed  his 
mornings  in  his  old  tower  of  Montbar,  at  the  end 
of  his  garden,  with  all  nature  opening  to  him, 
formed  all  his  ideas  of  what  was  passing  before 
him  by  the  arts  of  an  active  and  pliant  capuchin, 
and  the  comments  of  a  perruquier  on  the  scanda- 
lous chronicles :  these  he  treated  as  children ; 
but  the  children  commanded  the  great  man. 
Dr.  Young,  whose  satires  give  the  very  anatomy 
of  human  foibles,  was  entirely  governed  by  his 
housekeeper ;  she  thought  and  acted  for  him, 
which  probably  greatly  assisted  the  "  Night 
Thoughts,"  but  his  curate  exposed  the  do- 
mestic economy  of  a  man  of  genius  by  a  satiri- 
cal novel.  Was  not  the  hero  Marlborough,  at  the 
moment  he  was  the  terror  of  France  and  the 
glory  of  Germany,  held  under  the  finger  of  his 
wife  by  the  meanest  passion  of  avarice  ? 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENItJS.  203 

But  men  of  genius  have  too  often  been  ac- 
cused of  imaginary  crimes ;  their  very  eminence 
attracts  the  lie  of  calumny,  a  -lie  which  tradition 
conveys  beyond  the  possibility  of  refutation. 
Sometimes  reproached  for  being  undutiful  sons, 
because  they  displeased  their  fa  thers  in  making 
an  obscure  name  celebrated.  The  family  of  Des- 
cartes were  insensible  to  the  lustre  his  studies 
reflected  on  them;  they  lamented,  as  a  blot  in 
their  escutcheon,  that  Descartes,  who  was  born 
a  gentleman,  should  become  a  philosopher.  This 
elevated  genius  was  even  denied  the  satisfaction 
of  embracing  an  unforgiving  parent,  while  his 
dwarfish  brother,  with  a  mind  diminutive  as  his 
person,  ridiculed  his  philosophic  relative,  and 
turned  to  advantage  his  philosophic  dispositions. 
They  have  been  deemed  disagreeable  compa- 
nions, because  they  felt  the  weariness  of  dull- 
ness, or  the  impertinence  of  intrusion ;  as  bad 
husbands,  when  united  to  women,  who  without 
a  kindred  feeling  had  the  mean  sense,  or  the 
unnatural  cruelty,  to  prey  upon  their  infirmities, 
But  is  the  magnet  less  a  magnet,  though  the 
particles  scattered  about  it,  incapable  of  attrac- 
tion, are  unagitated  by  its  occult  quality  ? 

Poverty  is  the  endemial  distemper  of  the 
commonwealth;  but  poverty  is  no  term  for 
•'  ears  polite."  Few  can  conceive  a  great  cha- 


204  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS 

racter  in  a  state  of  humble  existence !  That 
passion  for  wealth  through  all  ranks,  leaving  the 
Hollanders  aside,  seems  peculiar  to  the  country 
where  the  "  Wealth  of  Nations"  is  made  the  first 
principle  of  its  existence ;  and  where  the  cui 
bonot  is  ever  referred  to  a  commercial  result, 
This  is  not  the  chief  object  of  life  among  the 
continental  nations,  where  it  seems  properly  re- 
stricted to  the  commercial  class.  Montesquieu, 
who  was  in  England,  observed  that  "  if  he  had 
been  born  here  nothing  could  have  consoled  him 
on  failing  to  accumulate  a  large  fortune,  but  I 
do  not  lament  the  mediocrity  of  my  circumstan- 
ces in  France."  This  evil,  for  such  it  may  be 
considered,  has  much  increased  here  since  Mon- 
tesquieu's visit.  It  is  useless  to  persuade  some 
that  there  is  a  poverty,  neither  vulgar  nor  terri- 
fying, asking  no  favours,  and  on  no  terms  receiv- 
ing any — a  poverty  which  annihilates  its  ideal 
evils,  and  becomes  even  a  source  of  pride — a 
state  which  will  confer  independence,  that  first 
step  to  genius ! 

There  have  been  men  of  genius  who  have  eveia 
learnt  to  want.  We  see  Rousseau  rushing  out 
of  the  hotel  of  the  financier,  selling  his  watch, 
copying  music  by  the  styeet,  and  by  the  mechan- 
ical industry  of  two  hours,  purchasing  ten  for  ge- 
nius. We  may  smile  at  the  enthusiasm  of  young 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS.  205 

Barry,  who  finding  himself  too  constant  a  haunter 
of  tavern-company,  imagined  that  this  expendi- 
ture of  time  was  occasioned  by  having  money  ; 
to  put  an  end  to  the  conflict,  he  threw  the  little 
he  possessed  at  once  into  the  Liffey ;  but  let  us 
not  forget  that  Barry,  in  the  maturity  of  life,  con- 
fidently began  a  labour  of  years,  and  one  of  the 
noblest  inventions  in  his  art,  a  great  poem  in  a 
picture,  with  no  other  resource  than  what  he 
found  in  secret  labours  through  the  night,  by 
which  he  furnished  the  shops  with  those  slight 
and  saleable  sketches  which  secured  uninterrupt- 
ed mornings  for  his  genius.  Spinosa,  a  name 
as  celebrated  and  calumniated  as  Epicurus,  lived 
in  all  sorts  of  abstinence,  even  of  honours,  of 
pensions,  and  of  presents,  which,  however  dis- 
guised by  ^kindness,  he  would  not  accept,  so 
fearful  was  this  philosopher  of  a  chain  ;  lodg- 
ing in  a  cottage,  and,  obtaining  a  livelihood  by 
polishing  optical  glasses,  at  his  death  his  small 
accounts  showed  how  he  had  subsisted  on  a  few 
pence  a  day. 

"  Enjoy  spare  feast!  a  radish  and  an  egg." — Cowper. 

Spinosa  said  he  never  had  spent  more  than  he 
earned,  and  certainly  thought  there  was  such  a 
thing  as  superfluous  earnings.  Such  are  the 
men  who  have  often  smiled  at  the  light  regard  of 
their  neighbours  in  contrast  with  their  growing 


206  THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

celebrity;  and  who  feel  that  eternal  truth,  which 
the  wisest  and  the  poorest  of  the  Athenians  has 
sent  down  to  us,  that  "  not  to  want  any  thing  is 
an  attribute  of  the  Divinity ;  but  man  approxi- 
mates to  this  perfection  by  wanting  little." 

There  may  be  sufficient  motives  to  induce 
the  literary  character  to  make  a  state  of  medi- 
ocrity his  choice.  If  he  loses  his  happiness,  he 
mutilates  his  genius.  Goldoni,  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  feelings  and  habits,  in  reviewing 
his  life,  tells  us  how  he  was  always  relapsing 
into  his  old  propensity  of  comic  writing ;  "  but 
the  thought  of  this  does  not  disturb  me ;  for 
though  in  any  other  situation  I  might  have  been 
in  easier  circumstances,  I  should  never  have 
been  so  happy."  Bayle  is  a  parent  of  the 
modern  literary  character;  he  pursued  the  same 
course,  and  early  in  life  adopted  the  principle 
"  Neither  to  fear  bad  fortune,  nor  have  any 
ardent  desires  for  good."  He  was  acquainted 
with  the  passions  only  as  their  historian,  and 
living  only  for  literature,  he  sacrificed  to  it  the 
two  great  acquisitions  of  human  pursuits — for- 
tune and  a  family ;  but  in  England,  in  France, 
in  Germany,  in  Italy,  in  Holland,  in  Flanders^ 
at  Geneva,  he  found  a  family  of  friends,  and 
an  accumulation  of  celebrity.  A  life  of  hard 
deprivations  was  long  the  life  of  Linnaeus. 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS.  207 

Without  a  fortune,  it  never  seemed  to  him 
necessary  to  acquire  one.  Peregrinating  on  foot 
with  a  stylus,  a  magnifying  glass,  and  a  basket 
for  plants,  he  shared  with  the  peasant  his  rustic 
meal.  Never  was  glory  acquired  at  a  cheaper 
rate,  says  one  of  his  eulogists.  Satisfied  with 
the  least  of  the  little,  he  only  felt  the  necessity 
of  completing  his  Floras  ;  and  the  want  of  for- 
tune did  not  deprive  him  of  his  glory,  nor  of 
that  statue  raised  to  him  after  death  in  the 
gardens  of  the  University  of  Upsal ;  nor  of  that 
solemn  eulogy  delivered  by  a  crowned  head ; 
nor  of  those  medals  which  the  king  of  Sweden, 
and  the  Swedes,  struck,  to  commemorate  the 
genius  of  the  three  kingdoms  of  Nature. 

In  substituting  fortune  for  the  object  of  his 
designs,  the  man  of  genius  deprives  himself  of 
the  inspirations  of  him  who  lives  for  himself; 
that  is,  for  his  Art.  If  he  bends  to  the  public 
taste,  not  daring  to  raise  it  to  his  own,  he  has 
not  the  choice  of  his  subjects,  which  itself  is  a 
sort  of  invention.  A  task-worker  ceases  to  think 
his  own  thoughts;  the  stipulated  price  and  time 
are  weighing  on  his  pen  or  his  pencil,  while  the 
hour-glass  is  dropping  its  hasty  sands.  If  the 
man  of  genius  would  become  something  more 
than  himself — if  he  would  be  wealthy  and  even 
luxurious,  another  fever  torments  him,  besides 


208  rHE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS. 

the  thirst  of  glory  ;  such  ardent  desires  create 
many  fears,  and  a  mind  in  fear  is  a  mind  in 
slavery.  So  inadequate,  too,  are  the  remunera- 
tions of  literary  works,  that  the  one  of  the 
greatest  skill  and  difficulty,  and  the  longest 
labour,  is  not  valued  with  that  hasty  spurious 
novelty  for  which  the  taste  of  the  public  is 
craving,  from  the  strength  of  its  disease  rather 
than  its  appetite.  Rousseau  observed  that  his 
musical  opera,  the  work  of  five  or  six  weeks, 
brought  him  as  much  money  as  he  had  received 
for  his  Emilius,  which  had  cost  him  twenty 
years  of  meditation,  and  three  years  of  compo- 
sition. This  single  fact  represents  a  hundred. 
In  one  of  Shakespeare's  sonnets  he  pathetically 
laments  this  compulsion  of  his  necessities  which 
r  forced  him  on  the  trade  of  pleasing  the  public  ; 
and  he  illustrates  this  degradation  by  a  novel 
image.  "  Chide  Fortune,"  cries  the  bard, — 

"  The  guilty  goddess  of  my  harmless  deeds, 
That  did  not  better  for  my  life  provide 
Than  public  means  which  public  manners  breeds; 
Thence  conies  it  that  my  name  receives  a  brand ; 
And  almost  thence  my  nature  is  subdued 
To  what  it  works  in,  LIKE  THE  DYER'S  HAND." 

Such  is  the  fate  of  that  author,  who,  in  his 
variety  of  task-works,  blue,  yellow,  and  red, 
lives  without  ever  having  shown  his  own  natu- 
ral complexion.  We  hear  the  eloquent  truth 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS.  209 

from  another  who  has  shared  in  the  bliss  of 
composition,  and  the  misery  of  its  u  daily  bread." 
"  A  single  hour  of  composition  won  from  the 
business  of  the  day,  is  worth  more  than  the 
whole  day's  toil  of  him  who  works  at  the  trade 
of  literature :  in  the  one  case  the  spirit  comes 
joyfully  to  refresh  itself,  like  a  hart  to  the 
water-brooks ;  in  the  other  it  pursues  its  miser- 
able way,  panting  and  jaded  with  the  dogs  of 
hunger  and  necessity  behind."* 

Genius  undegraded  and  unexhausted,  may, 
indeed,  ev^  in  a  garret,  glow  in  its  career; 
but  it  *jUSt  be  on  tne  principle  which  induced 
ROiv>seau  solemnly  to  renounce  writing  "  par 
uetier."  This  in  the  Journal  des  Scavans  he 
once  attempted,  but  found  himself  quite  inade- 
quate to  "  the  profession,"f  In  a  garret,  the 
author  of  the  "  Studies  of  Nature"  exultingly 
tells  us  that  he  arranged  his  work.  "  It  was  in 
a  little  garret,  in  the  new  street  of  St.  Etienne 
du  Mont,  where  I  resided  four  years,  in  the 
midst  of  physical  and  domestic  afflictions.  But 
there  I  enjoyed  the  most  exquisite  pleasures  of 
my  life,  amid  profound  solitude  and  an  enchant- 
ing horizon.  There  I  put  the  finishing  hand 

*  Quarterly  Review,  No.  XVI.  p.  538 

t  Twice  he  repeated  this  resolution. — See  his  works,  vol 
*xxi.  p.  283 ;  vol.  xxxii.  p.  90. 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GEMUS. 

to  my  "  Studies  of  Nature,"  and  there  I  publish- 
ed them." 

It  has  been  a  question  with  some,  more  indeed 
abroad  than  at  home,  whether  the  art  of  instruct- 
ing mankind  by  the  press  would  not  be  less  sus- 
picious in  its  character,  were  it  less  interested  in 
one  of  its  motives  ?  We  have  had  some  noble 
self-denials  of  this  kind,  and  are  not  without 
them  even  in  our  country.  Boileau  almost  cen- 
sures Racine  for  having  accepted  money  for  one 
of  his  dramas,  while  he  who  was  not  rich,  gave 
away  his  elaborate  works  to  the  pu\>lic  •  anc|  ne 
feems  desirous  of  raising  the  art  of  wrir^g.  to  a 
more  disinterested  profession  than  any  o^er> 
requiring  no  fees.  Milton  did  not  compose  Lr« 
immortal  labour  with  any  view  of  copyright ; 
and  Linnaeus  sold  his  works  for  a  single  ducat. 
The  Abbe  Mably,  the  author  of  many  political 
and  moral  works,  preserved  the  dignity  of  the 
literary  character,  for  while  he  lived  on  little,  he 
would  accept  only  a  few  presentation  copies 
from  the  booksellers.  Since  we  have  become  a 
nation  of  book  collectors,  the  principle  seems 
changed  ;  even  the  wealthy  author  becomes 
proud  of  the  largest  tribute  paid  to  his  genius, 
because  this  tribute  is  the  evidence  of  the  num- 
bers who  pay  it ;  so  that  the  property  of  a  book 
represents  to  the  literary  candidate  so  many  thou- 
sand voters  in  his  favour. 


THE  DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  GENIUS.  21  1 

The  man  of  genius  wrestling  with  heavy  and 
oppressive  fortune,  who  follows  the  avocations 
of  an  author  as  a  precarious  source  of  existence, 
should  take  as  the  model  of  the  authorial  life 
that  of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  the  dignity  of  the  literary 
character  was  ever  associated  with  his  feelings  ; 
and  the  "  reverence  thyself"  was  present  to  his 
mind  even  when  doomed  to  be  one  of  the  He- 
lotce  of  literature,  by  Osborn,  by  Cave,  or  by 
Millar.  Destitute  of  this  ennobling  principle,  the 
author  sinks  into  the  tribe  of  those  rabid  adven- 
turers of  the  pen  who  have  masked  the  degrad- 
ed form  of  the  literary  character  under  the  title 
of"  authors  by  profession"  —  the  Guthries,  the 
Ralphs,  and  the  Amhursts.*  "  There  are  worse 
evils,  for  the  literary  man,"  says  a  modern  author, 
who  is  himself  the  true  model  of  the  great  lite- 
rary character,  —  "  than  neglect,  poverty,  impri- 
sonment, and  death.  There  are  even  more  piti- 
able objects  than  Chatterton  himself  with  the 
poison  at  his  lips."  "  I  should  die  with  hunger, 
^re  I  at  peace  with  the  world,"  exclaimed  a 
corsa,,  Of  Uterature}  —  and  dashed  his  pen  into 
that  blau  fjood  before  him  of  SQot  and 


*    Tfri*    rparpr 

1    '.'1  find  an  original  letter  by  Guthrie  to  a 
Minister  of  State,,  n  .         ^  ^^  ^^  ^  probably 

his  own  invention,  with  .  e  unb]ushi     ,      avowed. 

See  •<  Calamrties  of  author".,   ^    .         g  farther 

opens  mysteries,  in  an  anonym  H      of  „  Tfae  Case 

of  Authors  by  Profession"    They     -»  ^ 


(  212) 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 


MATRIMONY   has  often    been   considered   as   a 
condition  not  well  suited  to  the  domestic  life   of 
genius ;  it  is  accompanied  by  too  many  embar- 
rassments for  the  head  and  the  heart..    It  was  an 
aixom    with   Fuessli,  the    Swiss  artist,    that   the 
marriage  state  is  incompatible  with  a  high  cul- 
tivation   of   the   fine    arts.      Peiresc,   the    great 
French    collector,   refused   marriage,    convinced 
that  the  cares  of  a  family  were  too    absorbing 
for  the  freedom    necessary    to   literary   pursuits, 
and  a  sacrifice  of  fortune    incompatible  with    his 
great  designs.     Boyle,  who  would  not  suffer  his 
studies  to  be  interrupted  by  "  household  affairs," 
lived  as  a  boarder  with  his  sister,  Lady  Hanela^ft. 
Bayle,   and    Hobbes^    and    Hume,    and   Giob^*' 
and  Adam   Smith,   decided  for  celibacy.    JUC" 
has  been  the   state    of   the  great  au*irf   whose 
sole  occupation    is   combined  wi^  Passion>  and 
whose  happiness  is  his  fame— f^6'  whicb  balan" 
ces   that   of  the  heroes   o^Qe   aS6'   who   have 
sometimes  honoured  tv<nselves  b?  acknowledg- 
ing it. 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  213 

This  debate,  for  our  present  topic  has  some- 
times warmed  into  one,  in  truth  is  ill  adapted 
for  controversy ;  the  heart  is  more  concerned  in 
its  issue  than  any  espoused  doctrine  terminating 
in  partial  views.  Look  into  the  domestic  annals 
of  genius — observe  the  variety  of  positions  into 
which  the  literary  character  is  thrown  in  the 
nuptial  state.  Will  cynicism  always  obtain  his 
sullen  triumph,  and  prudence  he  allowed  to  cal- 
culate away  some  of  the  richer  feelings  of  our 
nature  ?  Is  it  an  axiom  that  literary  characters 
must  necessarily  institute  a  new  order  of  celi- 
bacy ?  One  position  we  may  assume,  that  the 
studies,  and  even  the  happiness  of  the  pursuits 
of  literary  characters,  are  powerfully  influenced 
by  the  domestic  associate  of  their  lives. 

Men  of  genius  rarely  pass  through  the  age  of 
love  without  its  passion  :  even  their  Delias  and 
Amandas  are  often  the  shadows  of  some  real 
object.  According  to  Shakespeare's  experience, 

"  Never  durst  poet  touch  a  pen  to  write, 
Until  his  ink  were  tempered  with  love's  sighs." 

Love's  Labour  Lost,  Act  IV,  Scene  3. 

Their  imagination  is  perpetually  colouring  Ihose 
pictures  of  domestic  happiness  they  delight  to 
dwell  on.  He  who  is  no  husband  may  sigh 
for  that  devoted  tenderness  which  is  at  once 
bestowed  and  received;  and  tears  may  start  in 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

the  eyes  of  him  who  can  become  a  child  among 
children,  and  is  no  father.  These  deprivations 
have  usually  been  the  concealed  cause  of  the 
querulous  and  settled  melancholy  of  the  literary 
character.  The  real  occasion  of  Shenstone's 
unhappiness  was,  that  early  in  life  he  had  been 
captivated  by  a  young  lady  adapted  to  be  both 
the  muse  and  the  wife  of  the  poet.  Her  mild 
graces  were  soon  touched  by  his  plaintive  love- 
songs  and  elegies.  Their  sensibility  was  too 
mutual,  and  lasted  for  some  years,  till  she  died. 
It  was  in  parting  from  her  that  he  first  sketched 
his  "  Pastoral  Ballad."  Shenstone  had  the  for- 
titude to  refuse  marriage ;  his  spirit  could  not 
endure  that  she  should  participate  in  that  life  of 
deprivations  to  which  he  was  doomed,  by  an  in- 
considerate union  with  poetry  and  poverty.  But 
he  loved,  and  his  heart  was  not  locked  up  in  the 
ice  of  celibacy.  He  says  in  a  moment  of  hu- 
mour, "  It  is  long  since  I  have  considered  myself 
as  undone.  The  world  will  not  perhaps  consider 
me  in  that  light  entirely  till  I  have  married  my 
maid."  Thomson  met  a  reciprocal  passion  in 
his  Amanda,  while  the  full  tenderness  of  his  heart 
was  ever  wasting  itself,  like  waters  in  a  desert. 
As  we  have  been  made  little  acquainted  with  this 
part  of  the  history  of  the  poet  of  the  Seasons,  I 
give  his  own  description  of  these  deep  feelings 
from  a  manuscript  letter  written  to  Mallet.  "  To 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  215 

turn  my  eyes  a  softer  way,  to  you  know  who— * 
absence  sighs  it  to  me. — What  is  my  heart  made 
of?  a  soft  system  of  low  nerves,  too   sensible  for 
my  quiet — capable  of  being  very  happy  or  very 
unhappy,  I  am  afraid  the    ast  will  prevail.     Lay 
your  hand  upon  a  kindred  heart,  and  despise  me 
not.     I  know  not  what  it  is,  but   she  dwells  upon 
my  thought  in  a  mingled  sentiment,   which  is  the 
sweetest,  the  most  intimately    pleasirg  the  soul 
can  receive,  and   which  I   would   wish   never  to 
want  towards  some  dear  object  or  another.     To 
have  always  some  secret  darling   idea  to   which 
one  can  still  have  recourse  amidst  the  noise  and 
nonsense  of  the  world,  and   which  never  fails  to 
touch  us  in  the  most  exquisite  manner,  is  an  art 
of  happiness  that  fortune  cannot  deprive   us  of. 
This  may  be  called  romantic ;  but  whatever  the 
cause  is,  the  effect   is   really    felt.     Pray,  when 
you  write,  tell  me   wh^n  you   saw  her,  and  with 
the  pure  eye  of  a  friend,  when  you  see  her  again, 
whisper   that   I    am    her  most  humble   servant." 
Even  Pope  was  enamoured  of  "  a  scornful  lady  ;" 
and,  as  Johnson  observed,  "  polluted  his  will  with 
female    resentment."     Johnson    himself,   we  are 
told  by  Miss   Sevvard,   who  knew  him,  "  had   al- 
ways a  metaphysical  passion  for  one  princess  or 
other, — the  rustic  Lucy  Porter,  or  the  haughty 
Molly  Aston,  or  the  sublimated  methodistic  Hill 
Boothby;   and,  lastly,  the  more  charming  Mrs. 


216  ™E  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

Thrale."  Even  in  his  advanced  age,  at  the 
height  of  his  celebrity,  we  hear  his  cries  of  lone- 
ly wretchedness.  "  I  want  every  comfort;  my 
life  is  very  solitary  and  very  cheerless.  Let  me 
know  that  f  have  yet  a  friend — let  us  be  kind  to 
one  another."  But  the  "  kindness"  of  distant 
friends  is  like  the  polar  sun,  too  far  removed  to 
warm.  A  female  is  the  only  friend  the  solitary 
can  have,  because  her  friendship  is  never  absent. 
Even  those  who  have  eluded  individual  tender- 
ness, are  tortured  by  an  aching  void  in  their 
feelings.  The  stoic  Akenside,  in  his  books  of 
"  Odes,"  has  preserved  the  history  of  a  life  of 
genius  in  a  series  of  his  own  feelings.  One  en- 
titled, "  At  Study,"  closes  with  these  memorable 
lines  : 

11  Me  though  no  peculiar  fair 
Touches  with  a  lover's  care ; 

Though  the  pride  of  my  desire 
Asks  immortal  friendship's  name, 
Asks  the  palm  of  honest  fame 

And  the  old  heroic  lyre  ; 
Though  the  day  have  smoothly  gone, 
Or  to  lettered  leisure  known, 

Or  i  n  social  duty  spent ; 
Yet  at  eve  my  lonely  breast 
Seeks  in  vain  for  perfect  rest, 

Languishes  for  true  content." 

If  ever  a  man  of  letters  lived  in  a  state  of 
energy  and  excitement  which  might  raise  him 
above  the  atmosphere  of  social  love,  it  was  as- 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  3^7 

suredly  the  enthusiast,  Thomas  Hollis,  who,  sole- 
ly devoted  to  literature  and  to  republicanism, 
was  occupied  in  furnishing  Europe  and  America 
with  editions  of  his  favourite  authors.  He  would 
not  marry,  lest  marriage  should  interrupt  the  la- 
bours of  his  platonic  politics.  But  his  extraor- 
dinary memoirs,  while  they  show  an  intrepid 
mind  in  a  robust  frame,  bear  witness  to  the  self- 
tormentor  who  had  trodden  down  the  natural 
bonds  of  domestic  life.  Hence  the  deep  "  de- 
jection of  his  spirits ;"  those  incessant  cries,  that 
he  has  "  no  one  to  advise,  assist,  or  cherish  those 
magnanimous  pursuits  in  him."  At  length  he  re- 
treated into  the  country,  in  utter  hopelessness. 
"  I  go  not  into  the  country  for  attentions  to  agri- 
culture as  such,  nor  attentions  of  interest  of  any 
kind,  which  I  have  ever  despised  as  such  ;  but  as  a 
used  man,  to  pass  the  remainder  of  a  life  in  tole- 
rable sanity  and  quiet,  after  having  given  up  the 
flower  of  it,  voluntarily,  day,  week,  month,  year 
•after  year,  successive  to  each  other,  to  public  ser- 
vice, and  being  no  longer  able  to  sustain,  in  body  or 
mind,  the  labours  that  I  have  chosen  to  go  through 
without  falling  speedily  into  the  greatest  disorders, 
and  it  might  be  imbecility  itself.  This  is  not 
colouring,  but  the  exact  plain  truth,"  and  Gray's, 

«  Poor  moralist,  and  what  art  thou  ? 
A  solitary  fiy ! 

T 


218 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

Thy  joys  no  glittering  female  meets, 
No  hive  hast  thou  of  hoarded  sweets." 


Assuredly  it  would  not  be  a  question  whether 
these  literary  characters  should  have  married, 
had  not  Montaigne,  when  a  widower,  declared 
that  "  he  would  not  marry  a  second  time,  though 
it  were  wisdom  itself ;" — but  the  airy  Gascon  has 
not  disclosed  how  far  Madame  was  concerned  in 
this  anathema. 

If  the  literary  man  unites  himself  to  a  woman 
whose  tastes,  and  whose  temper,  are  adverse  to 
his  pursuits,  he  must  courageously  prepare  for  a 
martyrdom.  Should  a  female  mathematician  be 
united  to  a  poet,  it  is  probable  that  she  would  be 
left  to  her  abstractions ;  to  demonstrate  to  her- 
self how  many  a  specious  diagram  fails  when 
brought  into  its  mechanical  operation ;  or  while 
discovering  the  infinite  varieties  of  a  curve,  may 
deduce  her  husband's.  .  If  she  becomes  as  jea- 
lous of  his  books  as  other  wives  are  of  the  mis- 
tresses of  their  husbands,  she  may  act  the  virago 
even  over  his  innocent  papers.  The  wife  of 
Bishop  Cooper,  while  her  husband  was  employed 
on  his  Lexicon,  one  day  consigned  the  volume 
of  many  years  to  the  flames ;  and  obliged  that 
scholar  to  begin  a  second  siege  of  Troy  in  a  se- 
cond Lexicon.  The  wife  of  Whitelocke  often 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  219 

destroyed  his  MSS.  and  the  marks  of  her  nails 
have  come  down  to  posterity  in  the  numerous 
lacerations  still  gaping  in  his  "  Memorials." 
The  learned  Sir  Henry  Saville,  who  devoted 
more  than  half  his  life,  and  near  ten  thousand 
pounds,  to  his  magnificent  edition  of  St.  Chry- 
sostom,  led  a  very  uneasy  life  between  that 
Saint  and  Lady  Saville  ;  what  with  her  tender- 
ness fo?  him  and  her  own  want  of  amusement, 
Saint  Chrysostom  incurred  more  than  one  dan- 
ger. One  of  those  learned  scholars  who  trans- 
lated the  Scriptures,  kept  a  diary  of  his  studies 
and  his  domestic  calamities,  for  they  botfi  went 
on  together;  busied  only  among  his  books,  his 
wife,  from  many  causes,  plunged  him  into  debt; 
he  was  compelled  to  make  the  last  sacrifice  of  a 
literary  man,  by  disposing  of  his  library.  But 
now,  he  without  books,  and  she  worse  and  worse 
in  temper,  discontents  were  of  fast  growth  be- 
tween them.  Our  man  of  study,  found  his 
wife,  like  the  remora,  a  little  fish,  sticking  at 
the  bottom  of  his  ship  impeding  its  progress. 
He  desperately  resolved  to  fly  from  his  country 
and  his  wife.  There  is  a  cool  entry  in  the  diary, 
on  a  warm  proceeding,  one  morning;  wherein 
he  expresses  some  curiosity  to  know  the  cause 
of  his  wife  being  out  of  temper !  Simplicity  of 
a  patient  scholar!*  The  present  matrimonial 

*  The  entry  may  amuse.     Hodie,  nescio  qua  intemperia 
uxorem  meara  agitavit,  nam  pecuniam  usudatam  projecit  humi, 


220  THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

case,  however,  terminated  in  unexpected  happi- 
ness ;  the  wife,  after  having  forced  her  husband 
to  be  deprived  of  his  library,  to  be  daily  chro- 
nicling her  caprices,  and  finally,  to  take  the 
serious  resolution  of  abandoning  his  country, 
yet,  living  in  good  old  times,  religion  and  con- 
science united  them  again;  and,  as  the  connu- 
bial diarist  ingeniously  describes  this  second 
marriage  of  himself  and  his  wife, — "  made  it  be 
wiih  them,  as  surgeons  say  it  is  with  a  fractured 
bone,  if  once  well  set,  the  stronger  for  a  frac- 
ture." A  new  consolation  for  domestic  rup- 
tures ! 

Observe  the  errors  and  infirmities  of  the  great- 
est men  of  genius  in  their  matrimonial  connec- 
tions. Milton  carried  nothing  of  the  greatness  of 
his  mind,  in  the  choice  of  his  wives  ;  his  first  wife 
was  the  object  of  sudden  fancy.  He  left  the 
metropolis,  and  unexpectedly  returned  a  married 
man  ;  united  to  a  woman  of  such  uncongenial 
dispositions,  that  the  romp  was  frightened  at  the 
literary  habits  of  the  great  poet,  found  his  house 
solitary,  beat  his  nephews,  and  ran  away  after  a 
single  month's  residence  !  to  this  circumstance, 
we  owe  his  famous  treatise  on  Divorce,  and  a 

ac  sic  irata  discessit." — "  This  day,  I  know  not  the  cause  of 
the  ill-temper  of  ray  wife  ;  when  I  gave  her  money  for  daily 
expences,  she  flung  it  upon  the  ground  and  departed  in  pas- 
sion." For  some,  this  Flemish  picture  must  be  too  familiar  to 
please,  too  minute  a  copy  of  vulgar  life. 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  221 

party,  (by  no  means  extinct,)  who,  having  made 
as  ill  choices  in  their  wives,  were  for  divorsing,  as 
fast  as  they  had  been  for  marrying,  calling  them- 
selves Miltonists.  When  we  find  that  Moliere,  so 
skilful  in  human  life,  married  a  girl  from  his 
own  troop,  who  made  him  experience  all  those 
bitter  disgusts  and  ridiculous  embarrassments 
which  he  himself  played  off  at  the  Theatre  ; 
that  Addison's  fine  taste  in  morals  and  in  life, 
could  suffer  the  ambition  of  a  courtier  to  prevail 
with  himself  to  seek  a  Countess,  whom  he  des- 
cribes under  the  stormy  character  of  Oceana, 
who  drove  him  contemptuously  into  solitude,  and 
shortened  his  days  ;  and,  that  Steele,  warm  and 
thoughtless,  was  united  to  a  cold  precise  "  Miss 
Prue,"  as  he  calls  her,  and  from  whom  he  never 
parted  without  bickerings  ;  in  all  these  cases,  we 
censure  the  great  men,  not  their  wives.^  ROUS- 
SEAU has  honestly  confessed  his  error  :  he  had 
united  himself  to  a  low  illiterate  woman — and 
when  he  retreated  into  solitude,  he  felt  the  weight 
which  he  carried  with  him.  He  laments  that  he 
had  not  educated  his  wife  ;  "  In  a  docile  age,  I 
could  have  adorned  her  mind  with  talents  and 
knowledge  which  would  have  more  closely  united 
us  in  retirement.  We  should  not  then  have  felt 
the  intolerable  taedium  of  a  tete  a  tete  ;  it  is  in 

*  See  Curiosities  of  Literature,  vol.  ii.  for  various  anecdotes 
of  «  Literary  Wives."    Sixth  Edition,  1817. 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE 

solitude  one  feels  the  advantage  of  living  with 
another  who  can  think."  Thus  Rousseau  con- 
fesses the  fatal  error,  and  indicates  the  right  prin- 
ciple. 

But  it  seems  not  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
domestic  happiness  of  the  literary  character,  that 
his  wife  should  be  a  literary  woman.  The  lady 
of  Wieland  was  a  very  pleasing  domestic  person, 
who  without  reading  her  husband's  works,  knew 
he  was  a  great  poet.  Wieland  was  apt  to  exer- 
cise his  imagination  in  a  sort  of  angry  declama- 
tion and  bitter  amplifications ;  and  the  writer  of 
this  account,  in  perfect  German  taste,  assures  us, 
"  that  many  of  his  felicities  of  diction  were  thus 
struck  out  at  a  heat :"  during  this  frequent  ope- 
ration of  his  genius,  the  placable  temper  of  Mrs. 
Wieland  overcame  the  orgasm  of  the  German 
bard,  merely  by  her  admiration  and  her  patience. 
When  the  burst  was  over,  Wieland  himself  was 
so  charmed  by  her  docility,  that  he  usually 
closed  with  giving  up  all  his  opinions.  There 
is  another  sort  of  homely  happiness,  aptly  des- 
cribed in  the  plain  words  of  Bishop  Newton  : 
He  found  4C  the  study  of  sacred  and  classic  au- 
thors ill  agreed  with  butchers'  and  bakers'  bills ;" 
and  when  the  prospect  of  a  bishopric  opened 
on  him,  "  more  servants,  more  entertainments, 
a  better  table,  &c."  it  became  necessary  to  look 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE,  £23 

out  for  "  some  clever  sensible  woman  to  be  his 
wife,  who  would  lay  out  his  money  to  the  best 
advantage,  and  be  careful  and  tender  of  his 
health ;  a  friend  and  companion  at  all  hours,  and 
who  would  be  happier  in  staying  at  home  than 
be  perpetually  gadding  abroad."  Such  are  the 
wives,  not  adapted  to  be  the  votaries,  but  who 
may  be  the  faithful  companions  through  life, 
even  of  a  man  of  genius. 

That  susceptibility,  which  is  love  in  its  most 
compliant  forms,  is  a  constitutional  faculty  in 
the  female  character,  and  hence  its  docility  and 
enthusiasm  has  varied  with  the  genius  of  differ- 
ent ages-  When  universities  were  opened  to 
the  sex,  have  they  not  acquired  academic  glory  ? 
Have  not  the  wives  of  military  men  shared  in 
the  perils  of  the  field,  and  as  Anna  Comnena, 
and  our  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  become  even  their 
historians?  In  the  age  of  love  and  sympathy 
the  female  receives  an  indelible  character  from 
her  literary  associate  ;  his  pursuits  are  even  the 
objects  of  her  thoughts ;  he  sees  his  tastes  reflect- 
ed in  his  family,  much  less  by  himself,  whose  soli- 
tary labours  often  preclude  him  from  forming 
them,  than  by  that  image  of  his  own  genius  in 
his  house — the  mother  of  his  children.  Anti- 
quity abounds  with  many  inspiring  examples  of 
this  camekon  reflection  of  the  female  character. 


224  THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

Aspasia,  from  the  arms  of  Pericles,  borrowing  his 
genius,  could  instruct  the  archons  how  to  govern 
the  republic  ;  Portia,  the  wife  of  the  republican 
Brutus,  devouring  the  burning  coals,  showed  a 
glorious  suicide  which  Brutus  had  approved  ; 
while  Paulina,  the  wife  of  Seneca,  when  the 
veins  of  that  philosopher  were  commanded  to 
be  opened,  voluntarily  chose  the  same  death  ; 
the  philosopher  commanded  that  her  flowing 
blood  should  be  stopped,  but  her  pallid  features 
ever  after  showed  her  still  the  wife  of  Seneca ! 
The  wife  of  Lucan  is  said  to  have  transcribed 
and  corrected  the  Pharsalia  after  the  death  of 
her  husband  ;  the  tender  mind  of  the  wife  had 
caught  the  energy  of  the  bard  by  its  intercourse  ; 
and  when  he  was  no  more,  she  placed  his  bust 
on  her  bed,  that  she  might  never  close  her  ey.es 
without  being  soothed  by  his  image.  The  pic- 
ture of  a  literary  wife  of  antiquity  has  descended 
to  us,  touched  by  the  domestic  pencil  of  a  man 
of  genius.  It  is  the  susceptible  Calphurnia,  the 
lady  of  the  younger  Pliny  ;  "  her  affection  to  me 
has  given  her  a  turn  to  books — her  passion  will 
increase  with  our  days,  for  it  is  not  my  youth  or 
my  person,  which  time  gradually  impairs,  but  my 
reputation  and  my  glory,  of  which  she  is  en- 
amoured." Could  Mrs.  Hutchinson  have  written 
the  life  of  her  husband,  had  she  not  reflected 
from  the  patriot  himself,  all  his  devotedness  to 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

the  country,  had  she  not  lent  her  whole  soul  to 
every  event  which  concerned  him  ?  This  female 
susceptibility  was  strong  in  the  wife  of  Klop- 
stock ;  our  novelist  Richardson,  who  could  not 
read  the  Messiah  in  the  original,  was  desirous  of 
some  account  of  the  poem,  and  its  progress. 
She  writes  to  him  that  no  one  can  inform  him 
better  than  herself,  for  she  knows  the  most  of 
that  which  is  not  published,  "  being  always  pre- 
sent at  the  birth  of  the  young  verses,  which  be- 
gin by  fragments  here  and  there,  of  a  subject  of 
which  his  soul  is  just  then  filled.  Persons  who 
live  as  we  do  have  no  need  of  two  cham- 
bers •  we  are  always  in  the  same  ;  I  with  my  little 
work,  still,  still, — only  regarding  sometimes  my 
husband's  sweet  face,  which  is  so  venerable  at 
that  time,  with  tears  of  devotion  and  all  the  sub- 
limity of  the  subject — my  husband  reading  me 
his  young  verses  and  suffering  my  criticisms." 
Meta  Hollers  writes  with  enthusiasm,  and  in 
German  English ;  but  he  is  a  pitiful  critic  who 
has  only  discovered  the  oddness  of  her  language. 

GESNER  declared  that  whatever  were  his  ta- 
lents, the  person  who  had  most  contributed  to 
develope  them  was  his  wife.  She  is  unknown 
to  the  public ;  but  the  history  of  the  mind  of  such 
a  woman  can  only  be  truly  discovered  in  the 
"  Letters  of  Gesner  and  his  Family."  While 
Gesner  gave  himself  up  entirely  to  his  favour- 


226  THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

ite  arts,  drawing,  painting,  etching,  and  com- 
posing poems,  his  wife  would  often  reanimate  a 
genius  that  was  apt  to  despond  in  its  attempts, 
and  often  exciting  him  to  new  productions,  her 
certain  and  delicate  taste  was  attentively  con- 
sulted by  the  poet-painter — but  she  combined 
the  most  practical  good  sense  with  the  most 
feeling  imagination;  this  forms  the  rareness  of 
the  character — for  this  same  woman,  who  united 
with  her  husband  in  the  education  of  their 
children,  to  relieve  him  from  the  interruptions  of 
common  business,  carried  on  alone  the  concerns 
of  his  house  in  la  librairie.  Her  correspondence 
with  her  son,  a  young  artist  travelling  for  his 
studies,  opens  what  an  old  poet  comprehensively 
terms  "  a  gathered  mind."  Imagine  a  woman 
attending  the  domestic  economy,  and  the  com- 
mercial details,  yet  withdrawing  out  of  this  busi- 
ness of  life  into  that  of  the  more  elevated  pur- 
suits of  her  husband,  and  the  cares  and  counsels 
she  bestowed  on  her  son  to  form  the  artist  and 
the  man.  To  know  this  incomparable  woman 
we  must  hear  her.  "  Consider  your  father's 
precepts  as  oracles  of  wisdom  ;  they  are  the  re- 
sult of  the  experience  he  has  collected,  not  only 
of  life,  but  of  that  art  which  he  has  acquired  sim- 
ply by  his  own  industry."  She  would  not  have 
her  son  suffer  his  strong  affection  to  herself  to 
absorb  all  other  sentiments.  "  Had  you  remain- 
ed at  home,  and  been  habituated  under  your 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  227 

mother's  auspices  to  employments  merely  do- 
mestic, what  advantage  would  you  have  ac- 
quired ?  I  own  we  should  have  passed  some  de- 
lightful winter  evenings  together;  but  your  love 
for  the  arts,  and  my  ambition  to  see  my  sons  as 
much  distinguished  for  their  talents  as  their  vir- 
tues, would  have  been  a  constant  source  of  regret 
at  your  passing  your  time  in  a  manner  so  little 
worthy  of  you."  How  profound  is  her  observa- 
tion on  the  strong  but  confined  attachments  of  a 
youth  of  genius.  "  I  have  frequently  remarked, 
with  some  regret,  the  excessive  attachment  you  in- 
dulge towards  those  who  see  and  feel  as  you  do 
yourself,  and  the  total  neglect  with  which  you  seem 
to  treat  every  one  else.  I  should  reproach  a  man 
with  such  a  fault  who  was  destined  to  pass  his  life 
in  a  small  and  unvarying  circle ;  but  in  an  artist, 
who  has  a  great  object  in  view,  and  whose  coun- 
try is  the  whole  world,  this  disposition  seems  to 
me  likely  to  produce  a  great  number  of  inconve- 
niences—  alas!  my  son,  the  life  you  have  hither- 
to led  in  your  father's  house  has  been  in  fact  a 
pastoral  life,  and  not  such  a  one  as  was  necessary 
for  the  education  of  a  man  whose  destiny  sum- 
mons him  to  the  world." — And  when  her  son, 
after  meditating  on  some  of  the  most  glorious 
productions  of  art,  felt  himself,  as  he  says, 
"  disheartened  and  cast  down  at  the  unattainable 
superiority  of  the  artist,  and  that  it  was.  only  by 


228  THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE. 

reflecting  on  the  immense  labour  and  continued 
efforts  which  such  master  pieces  must  have 
required,  that  I  regained  my  courage  and  my 
ardour,"  she  observes,  "  this  passage,  my  dear 
son,  is  to  me  as  precious  as  gold,  and  I  send  it  to 
you  again,  because  I  wish  you  to  impress  it 
strongly  on  your  mind.  The  remembrance  of 
this  may  also  be  a  useful  preservative  from  too 
great  confidence  in  your  abilities,  to  which  a  warm 
imagination  may  sometimes  be  liable,  or  from 
the  despondence  you  might  occasionally  feel  from 
the  contemplation  of  grand  originals.  Continue, 
therefore,  my  dear  son,  to  form  a  sound  judgment 
and  a  pure  taste  from  your  own  observations ; 
your  mind,  while  yet  young  and  flexible,  may 
receive  whatever  impressions  you  wish.  Be 
careful  that  your  abilities  do  not  inspire  in  you 
too  much  confidence,  lest  it  should  happen  to  you 
as  it  has  to  many  others,  that  they  have  ne  °r 
possessed  any  greater  merit  than  that  of  having 
good  abilities."  One  more  extract  to  preserve 
an  incident  which  may  touch  the  heart  of  genius. 
This  extraordinary  woman,  whose  characteristic 
is  that  of  strong  sense  with  delicacy  of  feeling, 
would  check  her  German  sentimentality  at  the 
moment  she  was  betraying  those  emotions  in 
which  the  imagination  is  so  powerfully  mixed  up 
with  the  associated  feelings.  Arriving  at  their 
cottage  at  Sihlwald,  she  proceeds — "  On  enter- 


THE  MATRIMONIAL  STATE.  229 

ing  the  parlour  three  small  pictures,  painted 
by  you,  met  my  eyes.  I  passed  some  time  in 
contemplating  them.  It  is  now  a  year,  thought  I, 
since  I  saw  him  trace  these  pleasing  forms ;  he 
whistled  and  sang,  and  1  saw  them  grow  under 
his  pencil ;  now  he  is  far,  far  from  us. — In 
short,  I  had  the  weakness  to  press  my  lips  on  one 
of  these  pictures.  You  well  know,  my  dear  son, 
that  1  am  not  much  addicted  to  scenes  of  a  sen- 
timental turn;  but  to-day,  while  I  considered 
your  works,  I  could  not  restrain  from  this  little 
impulse  of  maternal  feelings.  Do  not,  however, 
be  apprehensive  that  the  tender  affection  of  a 
mother  will  ever  lead  me  too  far,  or  that  I  shall 
suffer  my  mind  to  be  too  powerfully  impressed 
with  the  painful  sensations  to  which  your  absence 
gives  birth.  My  reason  convinces  me  that  it  is 
for  your  welfare  that  you  are  now  in  a  place  wher* 
your  abilities  will  have  opportunities  of  unfolding, 
and  where  you  can  become  great  in  your  art." 

Such  was  the  incomparable  wife  and  mother 
of  the  Gesners* — Will  it  now  be  a  question 
whether  matrimony  is  incompatible  \vith  the 
cultivation  of  the  arts?  A  wife  who  reanimates 
the  drooping  genius  of  her  husband,  and  a  mo- 
ther who  is  inspired  by  the  ambition  of  seeing 
her  sons  eminent,  is  she  not  the  real  being  which 
the  ancients  only  personified  in  their  Muse  ? 


(  230  ) 

CHAPTER  XIV, 
LITERARY  FRIENDSHIPS. 

AMONG  the  virtues  which  literature  inspires,  is 
that  of  the  most  romantic  friendship.  The  deli- 
rium of  love,  and  even  its  lighter  caprices,  are 
incompatible  with  the  pursuits  of  the  student ; 
but  to  feel  friendship  like  a  passion,  is  necessary 
to  the  mind  of  genius,  alternately  elated  and 
depressed,  ever  prodigal  of  feeling,  and  excursive 
in  knowledge. 

The  qualities  which  constitute  literary  friend- 
ship, compared  with  those  of  men  of  the  world, 
must  render  it  as  rare  as  true  love  itself,  which  it 
resembles  in  that  intellectual  tenderness  of  which 
both  so  deeply  participate.  Two  atoms  must 
meet  out  of  the  mass  of  nature,  of  such  parity, 
that  when  they  once  adhere,  they  shall  be  as  one, 
resisting  the  utmost  force  of  separation.  This 
literary  friendship  begins  "  in  the  dews  of  their 
youth,"  and  may  be  said  not  to  expire  on  their 
tomb.  Engaged  in  similar  studies,  if  one  is  found 
to  excel,  he  shall  find  in  the  other  the  protector 
of  his  fame.  In  their  familiar  conversations. 


LITERARY  FRIENDSHIPS.  231 

the  rttemory  of  the  one  associates  with  the  fancy 
of  the  other ;  and  to  such  an  intercourse,  the 
world  owes  some  of  the  finer  effusions  of  genius, 
and  some  of  those  monuments  of  labour  which 
required  more  than  one  giant  hand* 

In  the  poem  Cowley  composed  on  the  death 
of  his  friend  Harvey,  this  stanza  opens  a  pleasing 
scene  of  two  young  literary  friends  engaged  in 
their  midnight  studies. 

"  Say,  for  you  saw  us,  ye  immortal  lights 
How  oft  unwearied  have  we  spent  the  nights, 
Till  the  Ladaean  stars,  so  famed  for  love. 
Wondered  at  us  from  above. 
We  spent  them  not  in  toys,  in  lust,  or  wine  ;        \ » 

But  search  of  deep  philosophy, 

Wit,  eloquence,  and  poetry ; 
Arts  which  I  loved,  for  they,  my  friend,  were  thine." 

Milton  has  not  only  given  the  exquisite  Lyci- 
das  to  the  memory  of  one  young  friend,  but  his 
Epitaphium  Damonis  to  another. 

Now,  mournfully  cries  the  youthful  genius, 
as  versified  by  Langhorne, 

r<  To  whom  shall  I  my  hopes  and  fears  impart, 
Or  trust  the  cares  and  follies  of  my  heart  ?" 

The  sonnet  of  Gray  on  West,  is  another  beau- 
tiful instance  of  that  literary  friendship  of  which 
we  have  several  instances  in  our  own  days,  from 


232  LITERARY  FRIENDSHIPS. 

the  school  or  the  college  ;  and  which  have  ri- 
valled in  devoted  affections  any  which  these  pages 
can  record. 

Such  a  friendship  can  never  be  the  lot  of  men 
of  the  world,  for  it  takes  its  source  in  the  most 
elevated  feelings ;  it  springs  up  only  in  the  fresh- 

\l  ness  of  nature,  and  is  gathered  in  the  golden  age 
of  human  life.  It  is  intellectual,  and  it  loves 
solitude  ;  for  literary  friendship  has  no  convivial 
gaieties  and  factious  assemblies.  The  friend- 
ships of  the  men  of  society  move  on  the  princi- 
ple of  personal  interest,  or  to  relieve  themselves 
from  the  listlessness  of  existence  ;  but  interest 
can  easily  separate  the  interested,  and  as  weari- 
ness is  contagious,  the  contact  of  the  propagator 
is  watched.  Men  of  the  world  may  look  on 
each  other  with  the  same  countenances,  but  not 

v  with  the  same  hearts.  Literary  friendship  is  a 
sympathy,  not  of  manners,  but  of  feelings.  In 
the  common  mart  of  life  may  be  found  intima- 
cies which  terminate  in  complaint  and  contempt ; 
the  more  they  know  one  another,  the  less  is  their 
mutual  esteem  ;  the  feeble  mind  quarrels  with 
one  still  more  imbecil  than  himself;  the  dissolute 
riot  with  the  dissolute,  and  while  they  despise 
their  companions,  they  too  have  become  despi- 
cable. 


LITERARY  FRIENDSHIPS  233 

That  perfect  unity  of  feeling,  that  making  of 
two  individuals  but  one  being,  is  displayed  in 
such  memorable  friendships  as  those  of  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher ;  whose  labours  were  so  combined 
that  no  critic  can  detect  the  mingled  production 
of  either;  and  whose  lives  were  so  closely  united, 
that  no  biographer  can  compose  the  memoirs 
of  the  one  without  running  into  the  life  of  the 
other.  Their  days  were  as  closely  intervoven  as 
their  verses.  Montaigne  and  Charron,  in  the  eyes 
of  posterity,  are  rivals,  but  such  literary  friendship 
knows  no  rivalry ;  such  was  Montaigne's  affec- 
tion for  Charron,  that  he  requested  him  by  his 
will  to  bear  the  arms  of  the  Montaignes ;  and 
Charron  evinced  his  gratitude  to  the  manes  of 
his  departed  friend,  by  leaving  his  fortune  to  the 
sister  of  Montaigne.  How  pathetically  Erasmus 
mourns  over  the  death  of  his  beloved  Sir  Thomas 
More — "  In  Moro  mihi  videor  extinct  us" — "  I 
seem  to  see  myself  extinct  in  More." — It  was  a 
melancholy  presage  of  his  own  death,  which 
shortly  after  followed.  The  Doric  sweetness  and 
simplicity  of  old  Isaac  Walton,  the  angler,  were 
reflected  in  a  mind  as  clear  and  generous,  when 
Charles  Cotton  continued  the  feelings,  rather 
than  the  little  work  of  Walton.  Metastasio  and 
Farinelli  called  each  other  il  Gemello,  the  Twin  ; 
and  both  delighted  to  trace  the  resemblance 
of  their  lives  and  fates,  and  the  perpetual  alii* 


234  LITERARY  FRIENDSHIPS. 

ance  of  the  verse  and  the  voice.  Goguet,  the 
author  of  "  The  Origin  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences," 
bequeathed  his  MSS.  and  his  books  to  his  friend 
Fugere,  with  whom  he  had  long  united  his  affec- 
tions and  his  studies,  that  his  surviving  friend 
might  proceed  with  them  ;  but  the  author  had 
died  of  a  slow  and  painful  disorder,  which  Fugere 
had  watched  by  the  side  of  his  dying  friend,  in 
silent  despair ;  the  sight  of  those  MSS.  and  books 
was  his  death-stroke  ;  half  his  soul  which  had 
once  given  them  animation  was  parted  from  him, 
and  a  few  weeks  terminated  his  own  days.  When 
Loyd  heard  of  the  death  of  Churchill,  he  neither 
wished  to  survive  him  nor  did.  The  Abbe  de  St. 
Pierre  gave  an  interesting  proof  of  literary  friend- 
ship for  Varignon  the  geometrician ;  they  were 
of  congenial  dispositions,  and  St.  Pierre,  when 
he  went  to  Paris,  could  not  endure  to  part  with 
Varignon,  who  was  too  poor  to  accompany  him  ; 
and  St.  Pierre  was  not  rich.  A  certain  income, 
however  moderate,  was  necessary  for  the  tran- 
quil pursuits  of  geometry.  St.  Pierre  presented 
Varignon  with  a  portion  of  his  small  income1, 
accompanied  by  that  delicacy  of  feeling  which 
men  of  genius  who  know  each  other  can  best 
conceive  :  "  I  do  not  give  it  you,"  said  St.  Pierre, 
4<  as  a  salary  but  an  annuity,  that  thus  you  may 
be  independent  and  quit  me  when  you  dislike 
me."  The  same  circumstance  occurred  between 
Akenside  and  Dyson,  who,  when  the  poet  was 


LITERARY  FRIENDSHIPS.  235 

in  great  danger  of  adding  one  more  illustrious 
name  to  the  Calamities  of  Authors,  interposed 
between  him  and  ill-fortune,  by  allowing  him 
an  annuity  of  three  hundred  a-year,  and  when 
he  found  the  fame  of  his  literary  friend  attacked, 
although  not  in  the  habit  of  composition,  Dyson 
published  an  able  and  a  curious  defence  of  Aken- 
side's  poetical  and  philosophical  character.  The 
name  and  character  of  Dyson  have  been  suffered 
to  die  away,  without  a  single  tribute  of  even 
biographical  sympathy ;  but  in  the  record  of 
literary  glory,  the  patron's  name  should  be  in- 
scribed by  the  side  of  the  literary  character  ;  for 
the  public  incurs  an  obligation  whenever  a  man 
of  genius  is  protected. 

The  statesman  Fouquet,  deserted  by  all  others, 
witnessed  La  Fontaine  hastening  every  literary 
inan  to  the  prison-gate  ;  many  have  inscribed 
their  works  to  their  disgraced  patron,  in  the  hour 

When  Int'rest  calls  off  all  her  sneaking  train, 
And  all  the  obliged  desert,  and  all  the  vain, 
They  wait,  or  to  the  scaffold,  or  the  cell, 
When  the  last  ling'ring  friend  has  bid  farewell. 

Such  are  the  friendships  of  the   great  literary 
Character !  Their  elevated  minds  have  raised  them 
into  domestic  heroes,  whose  deeds  have  been  of- 
/ten  only  recorded  on  that  fading  register,  the  hu- 
man heart. 


(  236  ) 
CHAPTER 

THE  LITERARY  AND  THE  PERSONAL  CHARACTER/ 

ARE  the  personal  dispositions  of  an  author  dis- 
coverable in  his  writings  as  those  of  an  artist  are 
imagined  to  appear  in  his  works,  where  Michael 
Angelo  is  always  great  and  Raphael  ever  graceful  ? 

Is  the  moralist  a  moral  man  ?  Is  he  malignant 
who  publishes  caustic  satires  ?  Is  he  a  libertine 
who  composes  loose  poems?  And  is  he  whose 
imagination  delights  in  terror  and  in  blood,  the 
very  monster  he  paints  ? 

Many  licentious  writers  have  led  chaste  lives. 
La  Mothe  le  Vayer  wrote  two  works  of  a  free 
nature ;  yet  his  was  the  unblemished  life  of  a  re- 
tired sage.  Bayle  is  the  too  faithful  compiler  of 
impurities,  but  he  resisted  the  corruption  of  the 
senses  as  much  as  Newton.  La  Fontaine  wrote 
tales  fertile  in  intrigues,  yet  the  "  bon  horn  me" 
has  not  left  on  record  a  single  ingenious  amour. 
Smollet's  character  is  immaculate ;  yet  he  has 
described  two  scenes  which  offend  even  in  the 
freedom  of  imagination.  Cowley,  who  boasts 
with  such  gaiety  of  the  versatility  of  his  passion 
among  so  many  mistresses,  wanted  even  the  con- 
fidence to  address  or\e.  Thus,  licentious  writers 


THE  LITERARY,  fcc.  337 

may  be  very  chaste  men;  for  the  imagination 
may  be  a  volcano,  while  the  heart  is  an  Alp  of  ice. 

Turn  to  the  moralist — there  we  find  Seneca, 
the  disinterested  usurer  of  seven  millions,  writing 
on  moderate  desires,  on  a  table  of  gold.  Sallust, 
who  so  eloquently  declaims  against  the  licentious- 
ness of  the  age,  was  repeatedly  accused  in  the  Sen- 
ate of  public  and  habitual  debaucheries;  and  when 
this  inveigher  against  the  spoilers  of  provinces 
attained  to  a  remote  government,  Sallust  pillaged 
like  Verres.  Lucian,  when  young,  declaimed 
against  the  friendship  of  the  great,  as  another 
name  for  servitude  ;  but  when  his  talents  procured 
him  a  situation  under  the  Emperor,  he  facetiously 
compared  himself  to  those  quacks,  who  themselves 
plagued  with  a  perpetual  cough,  offer  to  sell  an 
infallible  remedy  for  one.  Sir  Thomas  More,  in 
his  Utopia,  declares  that  no  man  ought  to  be 
punished  for  his  religion  ;  yet  he  became  a  fierce 
persecutor,  racking  and  burning  men  when  his 
o\\rn  true  faith  here  was  at  the  ebb.  At  the  mo- 
meut  the  Poet  Rosseau  was  giving  versions  of  the 
Psa)ms,  full  of  unction,  as  our  neighbours  say,  he 
wa'j  profaning-  the  same  pen  with  the  most  infa- 
n/ous  of  epigrams.  We  have  heard  of  an  erotic 
rjoet  of  our  times  composing  sacred  poetry,  or 
night-hymns  in  church-yards.  The  pathetic  ge- 
nius  of  Sterne  played  about  his  head,  but  never 
reached  his  heart 


238  THE  LITERARY  AND 

And  thus  with  the  personal  dispositions  of  an 
author,  which  may  be  quite  the  reverse  from  those 
which  appear  in  his  writings.  Johnson  would  not 
believe  that  Horace  was  a  happy  man,  because  his 
verses  were  cheerful,  no  more  than  he  could  think 
Pope  so,  because  he  is  continually  informing  us  of  it. 
Young,  who  is  constantly  contemning  preferment  in 
his  writings,  was  all  his  life  pining  after  it ;  and 
while  the  sombrous  author  of  the  "Night  Thoughts" 
was  composing  them,  he  was  as  cheerful  as  any  other 
man  ;  he  was  as  lively  in  conversation  as  he  was 
gloomy  in  his  writings:  and  when  a  lady  expressed 
her  suprise  at  his  social  converse,  he  replied — 
"  There  is  much  difference  between  writing  and 
talking."  Moliere,  on  the  contrary,  whose  hu- 
mour was  so  perfectly  comic,  and  even  ludicrous, 
was  a  very  thoughtful  and  serious  man,  and 
perhaps  even  of  a  melancholy  temper  :  his  strong- 
ly-featured physiognomy  exhibits  the  face  of  a 
great  tragic,  rather  than  of  a  great  comic,  poet. 
Could  one  have  imagined  that  the  brilliant  wit, 
the  luxuriant  raillery,  and  the  fine  and  deep  sense 
of  Paschal  could  have  combined  with  the  most 
opposite  qualities — the  hypochondriasm  and 
bigotry  of  an  ascetic  ?  Rochefoucauld,  says 
the  eloquent  Dugald  Stewart,  in  private  life  was 
a  conspicuous  example  of  all  those  moral  qualities 
of  which  he  seemed  to  deny  the  existence,  and 
exhibited  in  this  respect  a  striking  contrast  to  the 


THE  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.      239 

Cardinal  De  Retz,  who  has  presumed  to  censure 
him  for  his  want  of  faith  in  the  reality  of  virtue  j 
and  to  which  we  must  add,  that  De  Retz  was  one 
of  those  pretended  patriots  without  a  single  of 
those  virtues  for  which  he  was  the  clamorous 
advocate  of  faction.  When  Valincour  attributed 
the  excessive  tenderness  in  the  tragedies  of  Racine 
to  the  poet's  own  impassioned  character,  the 
younger  Racine  amply  showed  that  his  father  was 
by  no  means  this  slave  of  love  ;  that  his  intercourse 
with  a  certain  actress  was  occasioned  by  his  pains 
to  form  her,  who  with  a  fine  voice,  and  memory, 
and  beauty,  was  incapable  of  comprehending  the 
verses  she  recited,  or  accompanying  them  with 
any  natural  gesture.  The  tender  Racine  never 
wrote  a  single  love  poem,  nor  had  a  mistress; 
and  his  wife  had  never  read  his  tragedies,  for 
poetry  was  not  her  delight.  Racine's  motive 
for  making  love  the  constant  source  of  action  in 
his  tragedies,  was  on  the  principle  which  has 
influenced  so  many  poets,  who  usually  conform  to 
the  prevalent  taste  of  the  times.  In  the  court 
of  a  young  monarch,  it  was  necessary  that  heroes 
should  be  lovers;  and  since  Corneille  had  so 
nobly  run  in  one  career,  Racine  could  not  have 
existed  as  a  great  poet,  had  he  not  rivalled  him 
in  an  opposite  one.  The  tender  Racine  was  no 
lover;  but  he  was  a  subtle  and  epigrammatic 
observer,  before  whom  his  convivial  friends  never 


240  THE  LITERARY  AND 

cared  to  open  their  minds.  It  is  not  therefore 
surprising  if  we  are  often  erroneous  in  the  con- 
ception we  form  of  the  personal  character  of  a 
distant  author.  Klopstock,  the  votary  of  Zion's 
muse,  so  astonished  and  wanned  the  sage  Bodmer, 
that  he  invited  the  inspired  bard  to  his  house  ; 
but  his  visitor  shocked  the  grave  professor,  when, 
instead  of  a  poet  rapt  in  silent  meditation,  a  vola- 
tile youth  leapt  out  of  the  chaise,  who  was 
an  enthusiast  for  retirement  only  when  writ- 
ing verses.  An  artist  whose  pictures  exhibit 
a  series  of  scenes  of  domestic  tenderness,  awa- 
kening all  the  charities  of  private  life,  participa- 
ted in  them  in  no  other  way  than  on  his  can- 
vass. Evelyn,  who  has  written  in  favour  of 
active  life,  loved  and  lived  in  retirement ;  while 
Sir  George  Mackenzie  framed  an  eulogium  on 
solitude,  who  had  been  continually  in  the  bustle 
of  business. 

Thus  an  author  and  an  artist  may  yield  no 
certain  indication  of  their  personal  character  in 
their  works.  Inconstant  men  will  write  on  con- 
stancy, and  licentious  minds  may  elevate  them- 
selves into  poetry  and  piety.  And  were  this  not 
so,  we  should  be  unjust  to  some  of  the  greatest 
geniuses,  when  the  extraordinary  sentiments  they 
put  into  the  mouths  of  their  dramatic  personages 
are  maliciously  applied  to  themselves.  Euri- 


THE  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.      241 

pides  was  accused  of  atheism,  when  he  made  a 
denier  of  the  gods  appear  on  the  stage.  Milton 
has  been  censured  by  Clarke  for  the  impiety  of 
Satan ;  and  it  wras  possible  that  an  enemy  of 
Shakespeare  might  have  reproached  him  for  his 
perfect  delineation  of  the  accomplished  villain 
lago ;  as  it  was  said  that  Dr.  Moore  was  some- 
times hurt  in  the  opinions  of  some,  by  his  horrid 
Zeluco.  Crebillon  complains  of  this. — "  They 
charge  me  with  all  the  iniquities  of  Atreus,  and 
they  consider  me  in  some  places  as  a  wretch  with 
whom  it  is  unfit  to  associate ;  as  if  all  which  the 
mind  invents  must  be  derived  from  the  heart." 
This  poet  offers  a  striking  instance  of  the  little 
alliance  existing  between  the  literary  and  person- 
al dispositions  of  an  author.  Crebillon,  who  ex* 
ulted  on  his  entrance  into  the  French  academy, 
that  he  had  never  tinged  his  pen  with  the  gall  of 
satire,  delighted  to  strike  on  the  most  harrowing 
string  of  the  tragic  lyre.  In  his  Atreus,  the  father 
drinks  the  blood  of  his  son  ;  in  Rhadamistus,  the 
son  expires  under  the  hand  of  the  father ;  in 
Electra,  the  son  assassinates  the  mother.  A  poet 
is  a  painter  of  the  soul ;  but  a  great  artist^  is  not 
therefore  a  bad  man. 

Montaigne  appears  to  have  been  sensible  of 
this  fact  in  the  literary  character.     Of  authors,  he 
says,  he  likes  to  read  their  little  anecdotes  and 
w 


242  THE  LITERARY  AND 

private  passions  ;  and  adds,  "  Car  j'ai  une  singu- 
Here  curiosite  de  connoltre  1'ame  et  les  naifsjuge- 
mens  de  mes  auteurs.  II  faut  bien  juger  leur 
suffisance,  mais  non  pas  leurs  moeurs,  ni  eux,  par 
cette  montre  de  leurs  ecrits  qu'ils  etalent  au  thea- 
tre du  monde."  Which  may  be  thus  translated — 
"  For  I  have  a  singular  curiosity  to  know  the  soul 
and  simple  opinions  of  my  authors.  We  must 
judge  of  their  ability,  but  not  of  their  manners, 
nor  of  themselves,  by  that  show  of  their  writings 
which  they  display  on  the  theatre  of  the  world." 
This  is  very  just,  and  are  we  yet  convinced,  that 
the  simplicity  of  this  old  favourite  of  Europe, 
might  not  have  been  as  much  a  theatrical  ges- 
ture, as  the  sentimentality  of  Sterne  f 

We  must  not  therefore  consider  that  he  who 
paints  vice  with  energy  is  therefore  vicious,  lest 
we  injure  an  honourable  man ;  nor  must  we 
imagine  that  he  who  celebrates  virtue  is  there- 
fore virtuous,  for  we  may  then  repose  on  a  heart 
which  knowing  the  right  pursues  the  wrong. 

These  paradoxical  appearances  in  the  history 
of  genius  present  a  curious  moral  phenomenon. 
Much  must  be  attributed  to  the  plastic  nature  of 
the  versatile  faculty  itself.  Men  of  genius  have 
often  resisted  the  indulgence  of  one  talent  to  ex- 
ercise another  with  equal  power  ;  some,  who  have 


THE  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 

solely  composed,  sermons,  could  have  touched  on 
the  foibles  of  society  with  the  spirit  of  Horace  or 
Juvenal ;  Blackstone  and  Sir  William  Jones  di- 
rected that  genius  to  the  austere  studies  of  law 
and  philology,  which  might  have  excelled  in  the 
poetical  and  historical  character.  So  versatile 
is  this  faculty  t)f  genius,  that  its  possessors  a're 
sometimes  uncertain  of  the  manner  in  which  they 
shall  treat  their  subject ;  whether  to  be  grave  or 
ludicrous?  When  Breboeuf.  the  French  translator 
of  the  Pharsalia  of  Lucan,  had  completed  the  first 
book  as  it  now  appears,  he  at  the  same  time  com- 
posed a  burlesque  version,  and  sent  both  to  the 
great  arbiter  of  taste  in  that  day,  to  decide  which 
the  poet  should  continue  ?  The  decision  proved 
to  be  difficult.  Are  there  not  writers  who  can 
brew  a  tempest  or  fling  a  sunshine  with  all  the 
vehemence  of  genius  at  their  will?  They  adopt 
one  principle,  and  all  things  shrink  into  the  pig- 
my forms  of  ridicule  ;  they  change  it,  and  all  rise 
to  startle  us,  with  animated  Colossuses.  On  this 
principle  of  the  versatility  of  the  faculty,  a  pro- 
duction of  genius  is  a  piece  of  art  which  wrought 
up  to  its  full  effect  is  merely  the  result  of  certain 
combinations  of  the  mind,  with  a  felicity  of  man- 
ner obtained  by  taste  and  habit. 

Are  we   then  to  reduce  the  works  of  a  man  of 
genius  to  a  mere  sport  of  his  talents ;  a  game 


THE  LITERARY  AND 

in  which  he  is  only  the  best  player?  Can  he 
whose  secret  power  raises  so  many  emotions  in 
our  breasts,  be  without  any  in  his  own  ?  A  mere 
actor  performing  a  part  ?  Is  he  unfeeling  when 
te  is  pathetic,  indifferent  when  he  is  indignant  ? 
An  alien  to  all  the  wisdom  and  virtue  he  inspires  ? 
No !  were  men  of  genius  themselves  to  assert 
this,  arid  it  is  said  some  incline  to  it,  there  is  a 
more  certain  conviction,  than  their  mistakes, 
in  our  own  consciousness,  which  for  ever  assures 
us,  that  deep  feelings  and  elevated  thoughts  must 
spring  from  their  source. 

In  proving  that  the  character  of  the  man  may 
be  very  opposite  to  that  of  his  writings,  we  must 
recollect  that  the  habits  of  life  may  be  contrary 
to  the  habits  of  the  mind.  The  influence  of  their 
studies  over  men  of  genius,  is  limited ;  out  of 
the  ideal  world,  man  is  reduced  to  be  the  active 
...  creature  of- sensation.  An  author  has,  in  truth, 
two  distinct  characters ;  the  literary,  formed  by 
the  habits  of  his  study;  the  personal,  by  the 
habits  of  situation.  Gray,  cold,  effeminate  and 
timid  in  his  personal,  was  lofty  and  awful  in  his 
literary  character ;  we  see  men  of  polished  man- 
ners and  bland  affections,  in  grasping  a  pen,  are 
thrusting  a  poignard ;  while  others  in  domestic 
life,  with  the  simplicity  of  children  and  the  fee- 
bleness of  nervous  affections,  can  shake  the  senate 


THE  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.       245 

or  the  bar  with  the  vehemence  of  their  eloquence 
and  the  intrepidity  of  their  spirit. 

And,  however  the  personal  character  may  con- 
trast with  that  of  their  genius,  still  are  the  works 
themselves  genuine,  and  exist  in  realities  for  us 
—and  were  so  doubtless  to  themselves,  in  the 
act  of  composition.  In  the  calm  of  study,  a 
beautiful  imagination  may  convert  him  whose 
morals  are  corrupt,  into  an  admirable  moralist, 
awakening  feelings  which  yet  may  be  cold  in 
the  business  of  life ;  since  we  have  shown  that 
the  phlegmatic  can  excite  himself  into  wit,  and 
the  cheerful  man  delight  in  Night-thoughts. 
Sallust,  the  corrupt  Sallust,  might  retain  the 
most  sublime  conceptions  of  the  virtues  which 
were  to  save  the  Republic  ;  and  Sterne,  whose 
heart  was  not  so  susceptible  in  ordinary  occur- 
rences, while  he  was  gradually  creating  incident 
after  incident,  touching  the  emotions  one  after 
another,  in  the  stories  of  Le  Fevre  and  Maria, 

might  have  thrilled — like  some   of  his    readers.* 

• 

*  Long  after  this  was  written,  and  while  this  volume  was 
passing  through  the  press.  I  discovered  a  new  incident  in  the 
life  of  Sterne,  which  verifies  my  conjecture.  By  some  un- 
published letters  of  Sterne's  in  Mr.  Murray's  Collection  O£ 
Autographical  Letters,  it  appears  that  early  in  life,  he  deeply 
fixed  the  affections  of  a  young  lady,  during  a  period  of  five 
years,  and  for  some  cause  T  know  not,  he  suddenly  deserted  her, 
and  married  another.  The  young  lady  was  too  sensible  of 
w  2 


246  THE  LITERARY,  fcc. 

Many  have  mourned  over  the  wisdom  or  the 
virtue  they  contemplated,  mortified  at  their  own 
infirmities.  Thus,  though  there  may  be  no 
identity  between  the  book  and  the  man,  still  for 
us,  an  author  is  ever  an  abstract  being,  and,  as 
one  of  the  Fathers  said,  "  a  dead  man  may  sin 
dead,  leaving  books  that  make  others  sin."  An 
author's  wisdom -or  his  folly  does  not  die  with 
him.  The  volume,  not  the  author,  is  our  com- 
panion, and  is  for  us  a  real  personage,  performing 
before  us  whatever  it  inspires;  "he  being  dead, 
yet  speaketh."  Such  is  the  vitality  of  a  book ! 

this  act  of  treachery  ;  she  lost  her  senses  and  was  confined  in 
a  private  mad-house,  where  Sterne  twice  visited  her.  He  has 
drawn  and  coloured  the  picture  of  her  madness,  which  he 
himself  had  occasioned  !  This  fact  only  adds  to  some  which 
have  so  deeply  injured  the  sentimental  character  of  this  author, 
and  the  whole  spurious  race  of  his  wretched  apes.  His  life 
was  loose,  and  sbandean,  his  principles  unsettled,  and  it  does 
not  seem  that  our  wit  bore  a  single  attraction  of  personal 
affection  about  him;  for  his  death  was  characteristic  of  his 
life.  Sterne  died  at  his  lodgingsx  with  neither  friend  nor 
relative  by  his  side ;  a  hired  nurse  was  the  sole  companion  of 
the  man  whose  wit  found  admirers  in  every  street,  but  whose 
heart  could  not  draw  one  by  his  death-bed. 


•- 
(  247  )  ,    ; 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

AMONG  the  more  active  members  of  Ihe  re- 
public there  is  a  class  to  whom  may  be  appropri- 
ately assigned  the  title  of  MEN  OF  LETTERS. 

The  man  of  letters,  whose  habits  and  whose 
whole  life  so  closely  resemble  those  of  an  author, 
can  only  be  distinguished  by  the  simple  circum- 
stance, that  the  man  of  letters  is  not  an  author. 

Yet  he  whose  sole  occupation  through  life  is 
literature,  who  is  always  acquiring  and  never 
producing,  appears  as  ridiculous  as  the  architect 
who  never  raised  an  edifice,  or  the  statuary  who 
refrains  from  sculpture.  His  pursuits  are  re- 
proached with  terminating  in  an  epicurean  sel- 
fishness, and  amidst  his  incessant  avocations  he 
himself  is  considered  as  a  particular  sort  of  idler. 

This  race  of  literary  characters,  as  they  now 
exist,  could  not  have  appeared  till  the  press  had 
poured  its  affluence  ;  in  the  degree  that  the  na- 
tions of  Europe  became  literary,  was  that  philo- 
sophical curiosity  kindled,  which  induced  some 


248  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

to  devqte  their  fortunes  and  their  days,  and  to 
experience  some  of  the  purest  of  human  enjoy- 
ments, in  preserving  and  familiarising  them- 
selves with  "  the  monuments  of  vanished  minds," 
that  indistructible  history  of  the  genius  of  every 
people,  through  all  its  asras — and  whatever  men 
have  thought  and  whatever  men  have  done,  were 
at  length  discovered  to  be  found  in  Books. 

Men  of  letters  occupy  an  intermediate  station 
between  authors  and  readers  ;  with  more  curi- 
osity of  knowledge  and  more  multiplied  tastes, 
and  by  those  precious  collections  which  they 
are  forming  during  their  lives,  mor,e  completely 
furnished  with  the  means  than  are  possessed  by 
the  multitude  who  read,  and  the  few  who  write. 

The  studies  of  an  author  are  usually  restricted 
to  particular  subjects ;  his  tastes  are  tinctured  by 
their  colouring,  and  his  mind  is  always  shaping 
itself  to  them.  An  author's  works  form  his  soli- 
tary pride,  and  often  mark  the  boundaries  of  his 
empire ;  while  half  his  life  wears  away  in  the 
slow  maturity  of  composition ;  and  still  the  am- 
bition of  authorship  torments  its  victim  alike  in 
disappointment  or  in  possession. 

But  the  solitude  of  the  man  of  letters  is  soothed 
by  the  surrounding  objects  of  his  passion  ;  he  pos- 
sesses them,  and  they  possess  him.  His  volumes 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS.  249 

in  triple  rows  on  their  shelves;  his  portfolios, 
those  moveable  galleries  of  pictures  and  sketches ; 
his  rich  medaillier  of  coins  and  gems,  that  library 
without  books ;  some  favourite  sculptures  and 
paintings,  on  which  his  eye  lingers  as  they  catch  a 
magical  light ;  and  some  antiquities  of  all  nations, 
here  and  there,  about  his  house  ;  these  are  his 
furniture  !  Every  thing  about  him  is  so  endeared 
to  him  by  habit,  and  many  higher  associations, 
that  even  to  quit  his  collections  for  a  short  time 
becomes  a  real  suffering ;  he  is  one  of  the  lief- 
kebbers  of  the  Hollanders — a  lover  or  fancier.^ 
He  lives  where  he  will  die  ;  often  his  library  and 
his  chamber  are  contiguous,  and  this  "  Parva,  sed 
apta,"  this  contracted  space,  has  often  marked  the 
boundary  of  the  existence  of  the  opulent  owner. 

' 

His  invisible  days  flow  on  in  this  visionary  world 
of  literature  and  art ;  all  the  knowledge,  and  all 
the  tastes,  which  genius  has  ever  created  are 
transplanted  into  his  cabinet  ;  there  they  flourish 
together  in  an  atmosphere  of  their  own.  But 
tranquillity  is  essential  to  his  existence ;  for 
though  his  occupations  are  interrupted  without 
inconvenience,  and  resumed  without  effort,  yet 

*  The  Dutch  call  every  thing  for  which  they  have  a  passion 
licf-hebberge — things  having  their  love  ;  and  as  their  feeling  is 
much  stronger  than  their  delicacy,  they  apply  the  term  to  every- 
thing, from  poesy  and  picture  to  tulips  and  tobacco.  Lief- 
hebbers  are  lovers  or  fanciers. 


250  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

if  the  realities  of  life,  with  all  their  unquiet 
thoughts,  are  suffered  to  enter  into  his  ideal  world, 
they  will  be  felt  as  if  something  were  flung  with 
violence  among  the  trees  where  the  birds  are 
,  —  all  would  instantly  disperse  ! 


Such  is  that  life  of  self-oblivion  of  the  man  of 
letters,  for  which  so  many  have  voluntarily  relin- 
quished a  public  station  ;  or  their  rank  in  socie- 
ty ;  neglecting  even  fortune  and  health.  Of 
the  pleasures  of  the  man  of  letters  it  may  be 
said,  they  combine  those  opposite  sources  of  en- 
joyment observed  in  the  hunter  and  the  angler. 
Of  a  great  hunter  it  was  said,  that  he  did  not 
live  but  hunted  ;  and  the  man  of  letters,  in  his 
perpetual  researches,  feels  the  like  heat,  and  the 
joy  of  discovery,  in  his  own  chase  ;  while  in  the 
deep  calm  of  his  spirits,  such  is  the  sweetness  of 
his  uninterrupted  hours,  like  those  of  the  angler, 
that  one  may  say  of  him  what  Colonel  Vena- 
bles,  an  enthusiastic  angler,  declared  of  his  fa- 
vourite pursuit,  "  many  have  cast  off  other  re- 
creations and  embraced  this  ;  but  I  never  knew 
any  angler  wholly  cast  off,  though  occasions 
might  interrupt,  their  affections  to  their  beloved 
recreation." 

But  "  me'n  of  the  world,"  as  they  are  so  empha- 
tically distinguished,  imagine  .that  a  man  so  life- 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS.  2Bl 

less  in  <c  the  world"  must  be  one  of  the  dead  in  it, 
and,  with  mistaken  wit,  would  inscribe  over  the 
sepulchre  of  his  library,  "  Here  lies  the  body  of 
our  friend."  If  the  man  of  letters  has  volun- 
tarily quitted  their  "  world,"  at  least  he  has  past 
into  another,  where  he  enjoys  a  sense  of  ex- 
istence through  a  long  succession  of  ages,  and 
where  Time,  who  destroys  all  things  for  others, 
for  him  only  preserves  and  discovers.  This 
world  is  best  described  by  one  who  has  lingered 
among  its  inspirations.  "  We  are  wafted  into 
other  times  and  strange  lands,  connecting  us  by 
a  sad  but  exalting  relationship  with  the  great 
events  and  great  minds  which 'have  passed  away. 
Our  studies  at  once  cherish  and  controul  the  im- 
agination, by  leading  it  over  an  unbounded  range 
of  the  noblest  scenes  in  the  overawing  company 
of  departed  wisdom  and  genius."* 

If  the  man  of  letters  is  less  dependent  on 
others  for  the  very  perception  of  his  own  exist- 
ence, his  solitude  is  not  that  of  a  desert,  but  of 
the  most  cultivated  humanity ;  for  all  there 
tends  to  keep  alive  those  concentrated  feelings 
which  cannot  be  indulged  with  security,  or  even 
without  ridicule,  in  general  society.  Like  the 
Luculius  of  Plutarch,  he  would  not  only  Jive 
among  the  votaries  of  literature,  but  would  live 

*  Quarterly  Review,  No.  XXXIII.  p.  145. 


252         '  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

for  them  ;  he  throws  open  his  library,  his  gal- 
lery, and  his  cabinet,  to  all  the  Grecians.     Such 
are  the  men   who   father  neglected    genius,   or 
awaken  its  infancy  by   the   perpetual   legacy   of 
the   "   Prizes"  of  Literature    and   science  ;  who 
project  those  benevolent  institutions,  where  they 
have     poured    out    the    philanthropy    of     their 
hearts  in  that  world  which  they  appear  to  have 
forsaken.     If  Europe  is  literary,  to  whom  does 
she  owe  this,  more  than  to  these  men  of  letters  ? 
To  their  noble   passion  of  amassing   through  life 
those   magnificent  collections,   which    often  bear 
the  names  of  their  founders  from  the  gratitude 
of  a  following  age  ?  Venice,  Florence,  and  Co- 
penhagen, Oxford  and   London,   attest   the    ex- 
istence of  their  labours.     Our  Bodleys  and  >our 
Harleys,  our  Cottons  and  our  Sloanes,  our  Cra- 
cherodes  and  our  Townleys,    were  of  this  race  ! 
In  the  perpetuity  of  their  own   studies,  they  felt 
as  if  they  were  extending    human  longevity,  by 
throwing   an  unbroken   light  of  knowledge   into 
the  next  age.     Each  of  these  public  works,   for 
such  they  beeome,   was  the  project   and  the  exe- 
cution of  a  solitary  man  of  letters  during  half  a 
century  ;  the  generous  enthusiasm  which    inspir- 
ed  their  intrepid  labours ;  the  difficulties  over- 
come ;  the  voluntary  privations  of  what  the  world 
calls  its  pleasures  and  its  honours,  would  form  an 
interesting  history  not  yet  written  ;  their  due,  yet 
undischarged. 


THE  MAN  OP  LETTERS, 

'Living  more  with  books  than  with  men,  the 
man  of  letters  is  more  tolerant  of  opinions  than 
they  are  among  themselves,  nor  are  his  views  of 
human  affairs  contracted  to  the  day,  as  those  who 
in  the  heat  and  hurry  cf  life  can  act  only  on  ex- 
pedients, and  not  on  principles ;  who  deem  them- 
selves politicians  because  they  are  not  moralists ; 
to  whom  the  centuries  behind  have  conveyed  no 
results,  and  who  cannot  see  how  the  present  time 
is  always  full  of  the  future  ;  as  Leibnitz  has  ex~ 
pressed  a  profound  reflection.  "  Every  thing," 
says  the  lively  Burnet,  "  must  be  brought  to  the 
nature  of  tinder  or  gunpowder,  ready  for  a  spark 
to  set  it  on  fire,"  before  they  discover  it.  The 
man  of  letters  is  accused  of  a  cold  indifference 
to  the  interests  which  divide  society.  In  truth, 
he  knows  their  miserable  beginnings  and  their 
certain  terminations  ;  he  is  therefore  rarely  ob- 
served as  the  head,  or  the  rump,  of  a  party. 

Antiquity  presents  such  a  man  of  letters  in 
Atticus,  who  retreated  from  a  political  to  a  lite- 
rary life;  had  his  letters  accompanied  those  of 
Cicero  they  would  have  illustrated  the  ideal  cha- 
racter of  a  man  of  letters.  But  the  sage  Atticus 
rejected  a  popular  celebrity  for  a  passion  not  less 
powerful,  yielding  up  his  whole  soul  to  study, 
Cicero,  with  all  his  devotion  to  literature,  was 
still  agitated  by  another  kind  of  glory,  and  the 


254  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

most  perfect  author  in  Rome  imagined  that  he 
was  enlarging  his  honours  by  the  intrigues  of  the 
consulship.  He  has  distinctly  marked  the  cha- 
racter of  the  man  of  letters  in  the  person  of  his 
friend  Atticus,  and  has  expressed  his  respect, 
although  he  could  not  content  himself  with  its 
imitation.  "  I  know,"  says  this  man  of  genius 
and  ambition,  "  I  know  the  greatness  and  inge- 
nuousness of  your  soul,  nor  have  I  found  any 
difference  between  us,  but  in  a  different  choice 
of  life  ;  a  certain  sort  of  ambition  has  led  me 
earnestly  to  seek  after  honours,  while  other  mo- 
tives, by  no  means  blameable,  induced  you  to 
adopt  an  honourable  leisure ;  honestum  otium."* 
These  motives  appear  in  the  interesting  memoirs 
of  this  man  of  letters — a  contempt  of  political 
intrigues  with  a  desire  to  escape  from  the  bustle 
and  splendour  of  Rome  to  the  learned  leisure  of 
Athens  ;  to  dismiss  a  pompous  train  of  slaves  for 
the  delight  of  assembling  under  his  roof  a  lite- 
rary society  of  readers  and  transcribers ;  and 
there  having  collected  the  portraits  or  busts  of 
the  illustrious  men  of  his  country,  he  caught 
their  spirit,  and  was  influenced  by  their  virtues 
or  their  genius,  as  he  inscribed  under  them,  in 
concise  verses,  the  characters  of  their  mind. 
Valuing  wealth  only  for  its  use,  a  dignified  econ- 
omy enabled  him  to  be  profuse,  and  a  moderate 
expenditure  allowed  him  to  be  generous. 

*  Ad  Atticum,  Lib.  i.  Ep.  17. 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS.  255 

The  result  of  this  literary  life  was  the  strong 
affections  of  the  Athenians ;  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, the  absence  of  the  man  of  letters  offered, 
they  raised  a  statue  to  him,  conferring  on  our 
Pomponius  the  fond  surname  of  Atticus.  To 
have  received  a  name  from  the  voice  of  the 
city  they  inhabited,  has  happened  to  more  than 
one  man  of  letters.  Pinelli,  born  a  Neapolitan, 
but  residing  at  Venice,  among  other  peculiar  hon- 
ours received  from  the  senate,  was  there  distin- 
guished by  the  affectionate  title  of  "the  Venetian." 

Yet  such  a  character  as  Atticus  could  not  es- 
cape censure  from  "  men  of  the  world  ;"  they 
want  the  heart  and  the  imagination  to  conceive 
something  better  than  themselves.  The  happy 
indifference,  perhaps  the  contempt,  of  our  Atticus 
for  rival  factions,  they  have  stigmatised  as  a  cold 
neutrality,  and  a  timid  cowardly  hypocrisy.  Yet 
Atticus  could  not  have  been  a  mutual  friend,  had 
both  not  alike  held  the  man  of  letters  as  a  sacred 
being  amidst  their  disguised  ambition  ;  and  the 
urbanity  of  Atticus,  while  it  balanced  the  fierce- 
ness of  two  heroes,  Pompey  and  Caesar,  could 
even  temper  the  rivalry  of  genius  in  the  orators 
Hortensius  and  Cicero.  A  great  man  of  our  own 
country  widely  differed  from  the  accusers  of  Atti- 
cus; Sir  Matthew  Hale  lived  in  times  distracted, 
and  took  the  character  of  our  man  of  letters 
for  his  model,  adopting  two  principles  in 


250  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

the  conduct  of  Atticus;  engaging  with  no  party 
or  public  business,  arid  affording  a  constant 
relief  to  the  unfortunate  of  whatever  party,  he 
was  thus  preserved  amidst  the  contests  of  the 
times.  Even  Cicero  himself,  in  his  happier 
moments,  in  addressing  his  friend,  exclaims — "  I 
had  much  rather  be  sitting  on  your  little  bench 
under  Aristotle's  picture,  than  in  the  curule 
chairs  of  our  great  ones."  This  wish  was  pro- 
bably sincere,  and  reminds  us  of  another  great 
politician  in  his  secession  from  public  affairs, 
retreating  to  a  literary  life,  when  he  appears 
suddenly  to  have  discovered  a  new-found  world. 
Fox's  favourite  line,  which  he  often  repeated,  was, 

il  How  various  his  employments  whom  the  world 
Calls  idle." 

Cowper. 

If  the  personal  interests  of  the  man  of  letters 
are  not  too  deeply  involved  in  society,  his  indi- 
vidual prosperity  however  is  never  contrary  to 
public  happiness.  Other  professions  necessa- 
rily exist  by  the  conflict  and  the  calamities  of  the 
community ;  the  politician  is  great  by  hatching 
an  intrigue  ;  the  lawyer  in  counting  his  briefs ; 
the  physician  his  sick-list;  the  soldier  is  clamo- 
rous for  war,  and  the  merchant  riots  on  the 
public  calamity  of  high  prices.  But  the  man  of 
letters  only  calls  for  peace  and  books,  to  unite 
himself  with,  his  brothers  scattered  over  Europe  ; 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

and  his  usefulness  can  only  be  felt,  when,  after 
a  long  interchange  of  destruction,  men  during 
short  intervals,  recovering  their  senses,  discover 
that  "  knowledge  is  power." 

Of  those  eminent  men  of  letters,  who  were 
not  authors,  the  history  of  Peiresc  opens  the 
most  enlarged  view  of  their  activity.  This 
moving  picture  of  a  literary  life  had  been  lost 
for  us,  had  not  Peiresc  found  in  Gassendi  a  twin- 
spirit  ;  so  intimate  was  that  biographer  with  the 
very  thoughts,  so  closely  united  in  the  same 
pursuits,  and  so  perpetual  an  observer  of  the 
remarkable  man  whom  he  has  immortalized, 
that  when  employed  on  this  elaborate  resem- 
blance of  his  friend,  he  was  only  painting  him- 
self with  all  the  identifying  strokes  of  self-love. 

It  was  in  the  vast  library  of  Pinelli,  the 
founder  of  the  most  magnificent  one  in  Europe, 
that  Peiresc,  then  a  youth,  felt  the  remote  hope 
of  emulating  the  man  of  letters  before  his  eyes. 
His  life  was  not  without  preparation,  not  with- 
out fortunate  coincidences,  but  there  was  a 
grandeur  of  design  in  the  execution,  which  ori- 
ginated in  the  genius  of  the  man  himself. 

y 

The  curious  genius  of  Peiresc  was  marked 
by  its  precocity,  as  usually  are  strong  passions 

x  2 


258  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

in  strong  minds ;  this  was  the  germ  of  all  those 
studies  which  seemed  mature  in  his  youth.  He 
resolved  on  a  personal  intercourse  with  the  great 
literary  characters  of  Europe ;  and  his  friend 
has  thrown  over  these  literary  travels,  that  charm 
of  detail  by  which  we  accompany  Peiresc  into 
the  libraries  of  the  learned  ;  there  with  the  his- 
torian opening  new  sources  of  history,  or  with 
the  critic  correcting  manuscripts,  and  settling 
points  of  erudition ;  or  by  the  opened  cabinet  of 
the  antiquary,  decyphering  obscure  inscriptions, 
and  explaining  medals  ;  in  the  galleries  of  the 
curious  in  art,  among  their  marbles,  their  pictures 
and  their  prints,  he  has  often  revealed  to  the 
artist  some  secret  in  his  own  art.  In  the  museum 
of  the  naturalist,  or  among  the  plants  of  the 
botanist,  there  was  no  rarity  of  nature,  and  no 
work  of  art  on  which  he  had  not  to  communi- 
cate ;  his  mind  toiled  with  that  impatience  of 
knowledge,  that  becomes  a  pain  only  in  the 
cessation  of  rest.  In  England  Peiresc  was  the 
associate  of  Camden  and  Selden,  and  had  more 
than  one  interview  with  that  friend  to  literary 
men,  our  calumniated  James  I. ;  one  may  judge 
by  these  who  were  the  men  whom  he  first  sought, 
and  by  whom  he  himself  ever  after  was  sought. 
Such  indeed  were  immortal  friendships  !  immortal 
they  may  be  justly  called,  from  the  objects  in 
which  they  concerned  themselves,  and  fiom  the 
permanent  results  of  their  combined  studies. 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS.  259 

Another  peculiar  greatness  in  this  literary 
character  was  his  enlarged  devotion  to  literature 
for  itself;  he  made  his  own  universal  curiosity 
the  source  of  knowledge  to  other  men ;  consi- 
dering the  studious  as  forming  but  one  great 
family  wherever  they  were,  the  national  reposi- 
tories of  knowledge  in  Europe,  for  Peiresc, 
formed  but  one  collection  for  the  world.  This 
man  of  letters  had  possessed  himself  of  their 
contents,  that  he  might  have  manuscripts  col- 
lated, unedited  pieces  explored,  extracts  supplied, 
and  even  draughtsmen  employed  in  remote  parts 
of  the  world,  to  furnish  views  and  plans,  and  to 
copy  antiquities  for  the  student,  who  in  some 
distant  retirement  discovered  that  the  literary 
treasures  of  the  world  were  unfailingly  opened 
to  him  by  the  secret  devotion  of  this  man  of 
letters. 

Carrying  on  the  same  grandeur  in  his  views, 
Europe  could  not  limit  his  inextinguishable 
curiosity;  his  universal  mind  busied  itself  in 
every  part  of  the  habitable  globe.  He  kept  up 
a  noble  traffic  with  all  travellers,  supplying 
them  with  philosophical  instruments  and  recent 
inventions,  by  which  he  facilitated  their  dis- 
coveries, and  secured  their  reception  even  in 
barbarous  realms;  in  return  he  claimed,  at  his 
own  cost,  for  he  was  "  born  rather  to  give  than 
to  receive,"  Says  Gassendi,  fresh  importations 


260  THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

of  oriental  literature,  curious  antiquities,  or  bo- 
tanic rarities,  and  it  was  the  curiosity  of  Peiresc 
which  first  embellished  his  own  garden,  and 
thence  the  gardens  of  Europe,  with  a  rich 
variety  of  exotic  flowers  and  fruits.  Whenever 
he  was  presented  with  a  medal,  a  vase,  or  a 
manuscript,  he  never  slept  over  the  gift  till, he 
had  discovered  what  the,  donor  delighted  in; 
and  a  book,  a  picture,  or  a  plant,  when  money 
could  not  be  offered,  fed  their  mutual  passion 
and  sustained  the  general  cause  of  science. — 
The  correspondence  of  Peiresc  branched  out  to 
the  farthest  bounds  of  Ethiopia,  connected  both 
Americas,  and  had  touched  the  newly  discovered 
extremities  of  the  universe,  when  this  intrepid 
mind  closed  in  a  premature  death. 

I  have  drawn  this  imperfect  view  of  Peiresc's 
character,  that  men  of  letters  may  be  reminded 
of  the  capacities  they  possess.  There  still  re- 
mains another  peculiar  feature.  With  all  these 
vast  views  the  fortune  of  Peiresc  was  not  great ; 
and  when  he  sometimes  endured  the  reproach 
of  those  whose  sordidness  was  startled  at  this 
prodigality  of  mind,  and  the  great  objects  which 
were  the  result,  Peiresc  replied  that  "  a  small 
matter  suffices  for  the  natural  wants  of  a  literary 
man,  whose  true  wealth  consists  in  the  monu- 
ments of  arts,  the  treasures  of  his  library,  and 
the  brotherly  affections  of  the  ingenious,"  He 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS.  261 

was  a  French  judge,  but  supported  the  dignity 
more  by  his  own.  character  than  by  luxury  or 
parade.  He  would  not  wear  silk,  and  no  tapestry 
hangings  ornamented  his  apartments;  but  the 
walls  were  covered  with  the  portraits  of  his 
literary  friends :  and  in  the  unadorned  simpli- 
city of  his  study,  his  books,  his  papers,  and 
his  letters  were  scattered  about  him  on  the 
tables,  the  seats,  and  the  floor.  There,  stealing 
from  the  world,  he  would  sometimes  admit  to 
his  spare  supper  his  friend  Gassendi,  "  content," 
says  that  amiable  philosopher,  "  to  have  me.  for 
his  guest." 

Peiresc,  like  Pinelli,  never  published  any  work. 
Few  days,  indeed,  passed  without  Peiresc  writing 
a  letter  on  the  most  curious  inquiries ;  epistles 
which  might  be  considered  as  so  many  little 
books,  observes  Gassendi.*  These  men  of  letters 
derived  their  pleasure,  and  perhaps  their  pride, 

*  The  history  of  the  letters  of  Peiresc  is  remarkable.  He 
preserved  copies  of  his  entire  correspondence  ;  but  it  has  been 
recorded  that  many  of  these  epistles  were  consumed,  to  save 
fuel,  by  the  obstinate  avarice  of  a  niece.  This  would  not  have 
been  a  solitary  instance  of  eminent  men  leaving  their  collec- 
tions to  unworthy  descendants.  However,  after  the  silence  of 
more  than  a  century,  some  of  these  letters  have  been  recovered, 
and  may  be  found  in  some  French  journals  of  A.  Millin.  They 
descended  from  the  gentleman  who  married  this  very  niece, 
probably  the  remains  of  the  collection.  The  letters  answer  to 
the  description  of  Gassendi,  full  of  curious  knowledge  and  obser 
vation . 


262  THE  MAN  OF  BETTERS. 

from  those  vast  strata  of  knowledge  which  their 
curiosity  had  heaped  together  in  their  mighty 
collections.  They  either  were  not  endowed 
with  that  faculty  of  genius  which  strikes  out 
aggregrate  views,  or  with  the  talent  of  compo- 
sition which  embellishes  minute  ones.  This 
deficiency  in  the  minds  of  such  may  be  attri- 
buted to  a  thirst  of  learning,  which  the  very 
means  to  allay  can  only  inflame.  From  all 
sides  they  are  gathering  information  ;  and  that 
knowledge  seems  never  perfect  to  which  every 
day  brings  new  acquisitions.  With  these  men, 
to  compose  is  to  hesitate  ;  and  to  revise  is  to  be 
mortified  by  fresh  doubts  and  unsupplied  omis- 
sions. Peiresc  was  employed  all  his  life  in  a 
history  of  Provence  ;  and  day  after  day  he  was 
adding  to  the  splendid  mass.  But  "  Peiresc," 
observes  Gassendi,  "  could  not  mature  the  birth 
of  his  literary  offspring,  or  lick  it  into  any  shape 
of  elegant  form ;  he  was  therefore  content  to 
take  the  midwife's  part,  by  helping  the  happier 
labours  of  others." 

Such  are  the  silent  cultivators  of  knowledge, 
who  are  rarely  authors,  but  who  are  often,  how- 
ever, contributing  to  the  works  of  authors : 
without  their  secret  labours,  the  public  would 
not  have  possessed  many  valued  works.  That 
curious  knowledge  of  books  which,  since  Europe 
has  become  literary,  is  both  the  beginning  and 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS.  263 

the  result  of  knowledge  ;  and  literary  history 
itself,  which  is  the  history  of  the  age,  of  the 
nation  and  of  the  individual,  one  of  the  im- 
portant consequences  of  these  vast  collections 
of  books,  has  almost  been  created  in  our  own 
times.  These  sources,  which  offer  so  much  de- 
lightful instruction  to  the  author  and  the  artist, 
are  separate  studies  from  the  cultivation  of 
literature  and  the  arts,  and  constitute  more  par- 
ticularly the  province  of  these  men  of  letters. 

The  philosophical  writer,  who  can  adorn  the 
page  of  history,  is  not  always  equal  to  form  it. 
Robertson,  after  his  successful  history  of  Scot- 
land, was  long  irresolute  in  his  designs,  and  so 
unpractised  in  researches  of  the  sort  he  was 
desirous  of  attempting,  that  his  admirers  had 
nearly  lost  his  popular  productions,  had  not  a 
fortunate  introduction  to  Dr.  Birch  enabled  him 
to  open  the  clasped  books,  and  to  drink  of  the 
sealed  fountains.  Robertson  has  confessed  his 
inadequate  knowledge  and  his  overflowing  gra- 
titude, in  letters  which  I  have  elsewhere  printed. 
A  suggestion  by  a  man  of  letters  has  opened  the 
career  of  many  an  aspirant ;  a  hint  from  Walsh 
conveyed  a  new  conception  of  English  poetry 
to  one  of  its  masters.  The  celebrated  treatise 
of  Grotius,  on  u  Peace  and  War,"  was  projected 
by  Peiresc.  It  was  said  of  Magliabechi,  who 
knew  all  books  and  never  wrote  one,  that  by 


264  THE  MAN  OP  LETTERS 

his  diffusive  communications  he  was  in  some 
respect  concerned  in  all  the  great  works  of 
his  times.  Sir  Robert  Cotton  greatly  assisted 
Camden  and  Speed  ;  and  that  hermit  of  litera- 
ture, Baker  or  Cambridge,  was  still  supplying 
with  his  invaluable  researches,  Burnet,  Kennet, 
Hearne,  of  Middleton.  Such  is  the  concealed 
aid  which  these  men  of  letters  afford  our  authors, 
and  which  we  may  compare  to  those  subterra- 
neous streams,  which  flowing  into  spacious  lakes, 
are  still,  unobserved,  enlarging  the  waters  which 
attract  the  public  eye. 

Such  are  these  men  of  letters  !  but  the  last 
touches  of  their  picture,  given  with  all  the 
delicacy  and  warmth  of  a  self-painter,  may  come 
from  the  Count  de  Caylus,  celebrated  for  his  col- 
lections and  for  his  generous  patronage  of  artists. 

"  His  glory  is  confined  to  the  mere  power 
which  he  has  ,of  being  one  day  useful  to  letters 
and  to  the  arts ;  for  his  whole  life  is  employed 
in  collecting  materials  of  which  learned  men  and 
artists  make  no  use  till  after  the  death  of  him 
who  amassed  them.  It  affords  him  a  very  sen- 
sible pleasure  to  labour  in  hopes  of  being  useful 
to  those  who  pursue  the  same  course  of  studies, 
while  there  are  so  great  a  number  who  die  with-* 
out  discharging  the  debt  which  they  incur  to 
society." 


(  265  ') 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
LITERARY  OLD  AGE. 

THE  old  age  of  the  literary  character  retains  its 
enjoyments,  and  usually  its  powers, — a  happi- 
ness which  accompanies  no  other.  The  old  age 
of  coquetry  with  extinct  beauty ;  that  of  the 
used  idler  left  without  a  sensation  ;  that  of  a 
grasping  Croesus,  who  envies  his  heir ;  or  that 
of  the  Machiavel  who  has  no  longer  a  voice  in 
the  cabinet,  makes  all  these  persons  resemble  un- 
happy spirits  who  cannot  find  their  graves.  But 
for  the  aged  man  of  letters  memory  returns  to 
her  stores,  and  imagination  is  still  on  the  wing, 
amidst  fresh  discoveries  and  new  designs.  The 
others  fall  like  dry  leaves,  but  he  like  ripe  fruit, 
and  is  valued  when  no  longer  on  the  tree. 

The  intellectual  faculties,  the  latest  to  decline, 
are  often  vigorous  in  the  decrepitude  of  age. 
The  curious  mind  is  still  striking  out  into  new 
pursuits ;  and  the  mind  of  genius  is  still  creating. 
ANCORA  IMPARO  ! — "  Yet  I  am  learning  !"  Such 
was  the  concise  inscription  of  an  ingenious  de- 
vice of  an  old  man  placed  in  a  child's  go-cart, 
with  an  hour-glass  upon  it,  which  Michael  Ange- 


266  LITERARY  OLD  AGE. 

lo  applied  to  his  own  vast  genius  in  his  ninetieth 


year.* 


Time,  the  great  destroyer  of  other  men's  hap- 
piness, only  enlarges  the  patrimony  of  literature 
to  its  possessor.  A  learned  and  highly  intel- 
lectual friend  once  said  to  me,  "  If  1  have  ac- 
quired more  knowledge  these  last  four  years 
than  I  had  hitherto,  I  shall  add  materially  to 
my  stores  in  the  next  four  years ;  and  so  at  every 
subsequent  period  of  my  life,  should  I  acquire 
only  in  the  same  proportion,  the  general  mass  of 
my  knowledge  will  greatly  accumulate.  If  we 
are  not  deprived  by  nature  or  misfortune,  of  the 
means  to  pursue  this  perpetual  augmentation  of 
knowledge,  I  do  not  see  but  we  may  be  still 
fully  occupied  and  deeply  interested  even  to 
the  last  day  of  our  earthly  term."  In  such  pur- 
suits, where  life  is  rather  wearing  out,  than  rust- 
ing out,  as  Bishop  Cumberland  expressed  it, 
death  scarcely  can  take  us  by  surprise  ;  and  much 
less  by  those  continued  menaces  which  shake  the 
old  age  of  men,  of  no  intellectual  pursuits,  who 
are  dying  so  many  years. 

*  This  characteristic  form  closes  the  lectures  of  Mr.  Fuseil,  who 
^hus  indirectly  reminds  us  of  the  last  words  of  Reynolds  ;  and 
the  graver  of  Blake,  vital  as  the  pencil  of  Fuseli,  has  raised  the 
person  of  Michael  Angelo  with  its  admirable  portrait,  breath- 
ing inspiration. 


LITERARY  OLD  AGE.  267 

Active  enjoyments  in  the  decline  of  life,  then, 
constitute  the  happiness  of  literary  men  ;  the 
study  of  the  arts  and  literature  spread  a  sun- 
shine in  the  winter  of  their  days  ;  and  their  own 
works  may  be  as  delightful  to  themselves,  as 
roses  plucked  by  the  Norwegian  amidst  his 
snows;  and  they  will  discover  that  unregarded 
kindness  of  nature,  who  has  given  flowers  that 
only  open  in  the  evening,  and  flower  through  the 
night-time.  Necker  offers  a  beautiful  instance 
even  of  the  influence  of  late  studies  in  life  ;  for 
he  tells  us,  that  "  the  era  of  three-score  and  ten 
is  an  agreeable  age  for  writing ;  your  mind  has 
not  lost  its  vigour,  and  envy  leaves  you  in  peace." 
The  opening  of  one  of  La  Mothe  le  Vayer's 
Treatises  is  striking  :  "  I  should  but  ill  return 
the  favours  God  has  granted  me  in  the  eightieth 
year  of  my  age,  should  I  allow  myself  to  give 
way  to  that  shameless  want  of  occupation  which 
I  have  condemned  all  my  life  $"  and  the  old 
man  proceeds  with  his  "  observations  on  the 
composition  and  reading  of  books."  The  lite- 
rary character  has  been  fully  occupied  in  the 
eightieth  and  the  ninetieth  year  of  life.  Isaac 
Walton  still  glowed  while  writing  some  of  the 
most  interesting  biographies  in  his  eighty-fifth 
year,  and  in  his  ninetieth  enriched  the  poetical 
world  with  the  first  publication  of  a  romantic 
tale  by  Chalkhill,  "  the  friend  of  Spenser."  Bod- 
mer,  beyond  eighty,  was  occupied  on  Homer, 


268  LITERARY  OLD  AGE. 

and  Wieland  on  Cicero's  Letters.^  But  the 
delight  of  opening  a  new  pursuit,  or  a  new  course 
of  reading,  imparts  the  vivacity  and  novelty  of 
youth  even  to  old  age  ;  the  revolutions  of  mo- 
dern chemistry  kindled  the  curiosity  of  Dr.  Reid 
to  his  latest  days  ;  and  a  deservedly  popular  au- 
thor, now  advanced  in  life,  at  this  moment,  has 
discovered,  in  a  class  of  reading  to  which  be  had 
never  been  accustomed,  what  will  probably  sup- 
ply him  with  fresh  furniture  for  his  mind  during 
life.  Even  the  steps  of  time  are  retraced,  and 
what  has  passed  away  again  becomes  ours ;  for 
in  advanced  life  a  return  to  our  early  studies  re- 
freshes and  reno votes  the  spirits  ;  we  open  the 
poets  who  made  us  enthusiasts,  and  the  philoso- 
phers who  taught  us  to  tbink,  with  a  new  source 
of  feeling  in  our  own  experience.  Adam  Smith 
confessed  his  satisfaction  at  this  pleasure  to  pro- 
fessor Dugald  Stewart,  while  "  he  was  rppprucing, 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  student,  the  tragic  po- 
ets of  ancient  Greece,  and  Sophocles  and  Euri- 
pides lay  open  on  his  table." 

Dans  ses  veines  toujours  un  jeune  sang  bouillone, 
Et  Sophocle  a  cent  ans  peint  encore  Antigone. 

The  calm  philosophic  Hume  found  death  only 
could  interrupt  the  keen  pleasure  he  was  again 
receiving  from  Luc i an,  and  which  could  inspire 

*  See  Curiosities  of  Literature  on  "  The  progress  of  old  age 
in  new  studies,"  Vol.  i.  170.  Sixth  Edition. 


LITERARY  OLD  AGE.  269 

him  at  the  moment  with  a  humorous  self-dia- 
logue with  Charon. 

Not  without  a  sense  of  exultation  has  the  lite- 
rary character  felt  this  happiness,  in  the  unbroken 
chain  of  his  habits  and  his  feelings.  Hobbes  ex- 
ulted that  he  had  outlived  his  enemies,  and  was 
still  the  same  Hobbes;  and  to  demonstrate  the 
reality  of  this  existence,  published,  in  the  eighty- 
seventh  year  of  his  age,  his  version  of  the  Odys- 
sey, and  the  following  year,  his  Iliad.  Of  the 
happy  results  of  literary  habits  in  advanced  life, 
the  Count  de  Tressan,  the  elegant  abridger  of  the 
old  French  romances,  in  his  "  literary  advice  to 
his  children,"  has  drawn  a  most  pleasing  picture. 
With  a  taste  for  study,  which  he  found  rather  in- 
convenient in  the  moveable  existence  of  a  man  of 
the  world,  and  a  military  wanderer,  he  had  however 
contrived  to  reserve  an  hour  or  two  every  day  for 
literary  pursuits ;  the  men  of  science,  with  whom 
he  had  chiefly  associated,  appear  to  have  turned 
his  passion  to  observation  and  knowledge,  rather 
than  towards  imagination  and  feeling ;  the  com- 
bination formed  a  wreath  for  his  grey  hairs. 
When  Count  de  Tressan  retired  from  a  brilliant 
to  an  affectionate  circle,  amidst  his  family,  he 
pursued  his  literary  tastes,  with  the  vivacity  of 
a  young  author  inspired  by  the  illusion  of  fame. 
At  the  age  of  seventy-five,  with  the  imagination 


270  LITERARY  OLD  AGE. 

of  a  poet,  he  abridged,  he  translated,  he  recom- 
posed  his  old  Chivalric  Romances,  and  his  rean- 
imated fancy  struck  fire  in  the  veins  of  the 
old  man.  Among  the  first  designs  of  his  retire- 
ment was  a  singular  philosophical  legacy  for  his 
children ;  it  was  a  view  of  the  history  and  pro- 
gress of  the  human  mind — of  its  principles,  its 
errors,  and  its  advantages,  as  these  were  reflected 
in  himself;  in  the  dawnings  of  his  taste,  the 
secret  inclinations  of  his  mind,  which  the  men 
of  genius  of  the  age  with  whom  he  associated 
had  developed  ;  in  expatiating  on  their  memory, 
he  calls  on  his  children  to  witness  the  happiness 
of  study,  in  those  pleasures  which  were  soothing 
and  adorning  his  old  age.  "  Without  know- 
ledge, without  literature,"  exclaims  the  venera- 
ble enthusiast,  "  in  whatever  rank  we  are  bom, 
we  can  only  resemble  the  vulgar."  To  the  Cen- 
tenary Fontenelle  the  Count  de  Tressan  was 
chiefly  indebted  for  the  happy  life  he  derived 
from  the  cultivation  of  literature  ;  and  when  this 
man  of  a  hundred  years  died,  Tressan,  himself 
on  the  borders  of  the  grave,  would  offer  the  last 
fruits  of  his  mind  in  an  eloge  to  his  ancient 
master ;  it  was  the  voice  of  the  dying  to  the 
dead,  a  last  moment  of  the  love  and  sensibility 
of  genius,  which  feeble  life  could  not  extinguish. 


LITERARY  OLD  AGE.  271 

If  the  genius  of  Cicero,  inspired  by  the  love 
of  litenxiure,  has  thrown  something  delightful 
over  this  latest  season  of  life,  in  his  de  Senectute; 
and  if  to  have  written  on  old  age,  in  old  age, 
is  to  have  obtained  a  triumph  over  time,*  the 
literary  character,  when  he  shall  discover  him- 
self like  a  stranger  in  a  new  world,  when  all 
that  he  loved  has  not  life,  and  all  that  lives  has 
no  love  for  old  age  ;  when  he  shall  find  himself 
grown  obsolete,  when  his  ear  shall  cease  to 
listen,  and  nature  has  locked  up  the  man  entirely 
within  himself,  even  then  the  votary  of  literature 
shall  not  feel  the  decline  of  life ; — preserving  the 
flame  alive  on  the  altar,  and  even  at  his  last 
moments,  in  the  act  of  sacrifice.  Such  was  the 
fate,  perhaps  now  told  for  the  first  time,  of  the 
great  Lord  Clarendon  ;  it  was  in  the  midst  of 
composition  that  his  pen  suddenly  fell  from  his 
hand  on  the  paper,  he  took  it  up  again,  and 
again  it  fell ;  deprived  of  the  sense  of  touch,  he 
found  his  hand  without  motion  ;  the  earl  per- 
ceived himself  struck  by  palsy — and  thus  was 
the  life  of  the  noble  exile  closed  amidst  the 
warmth  of  a  literary  work,  unfinished. 

*  Spurinna,   or  the   Comforts  of  Old  Age,  by  Sir  Thomas 
Bernard. 


(272) 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
LITERARY  HONOURS. 

LITERATURE  is  an  avenue  to  glory,  ever  open 
for  those  ingenious  men  who  are  deprived  of 
honours  or  of  wealth.  Like  that  illustrious  Ro- 
i I  man  who  owed  nothing  to  his  ancestors,  videtur 
ex  se  natus,  they  seem  self-born  ;  and  in  the 
baptism  of  fame,  they  have  given  themselves 
their  name.  The  sons  of  a  sword-maker,  a  pot- 
ter, and  a  tax-gatherer,  were  the  greatest  of 
Orators,  the  most  majestic  of  poets,  and  the  most 
graceful  of  the  satirists  of  antiquity.  The  elo- 
quent Massillon,  the  brilliant  Flechier,  Rousse.au 
and  Diderot ;  Johnson,  Akenside,  and  Franklin, 
arose  amidst  the  most  humble  avocations. 

It  is  the  prerogative  of  genius  to  elevate  ob- 
scure men  to  the  higher  class  of  society  5  if  the 
influence  of  wealth  in  the  present  day  has  been 
justly  said  to  have  created  a  new  aristocracy  of 
its  own,  and  where  they  already  begin  to  be 
jealous  of  their  ranks,  we  may  assert  that  genius 
creates  a  sort  of  intellectual  nobility,  which  is 
conferred  on  some  Literary  Characters  by  the 
involuntary  feelings  of  the  public ;  and  were 


LITERARY  HONOURS.  273 

men  of  genius  to  bear  arms,  they  might  consist 
not  of  imaginary  things,  of  griffins  and  chime- 
ras, but  of  deeds  performed  and  of  public  works 
in  existence.  When  Dondi  raised  the  great  as- 
tronomical clock  at  the  University  of  Padua 
which  was  long  the  admiration  of  Europe,  it 
gave  a  name  and  nobility  to  its  maker  and  all 
his  descendants  ;  there  still  lives  a  Marquis  Dondi 
dal'  Horologio.  Sir  Hugh  Middleton,  in  memory 
of  his  vast  enterprise,  changed  his  former  arms 
to  bear  three  piles,  by  which  instruments  he  had 
strengthened  the  works  he  had  invented,  when 
his  genius  poured  forth  the  waters  through  our 
metropolis,  distinguishing  it  from  all  others  in 
the  world.  Should  not  Evelyn  have  inserted 
an  oak-tree  in  his  bearings  ?  for  our  author's 
"  Sylva"  occasioned  the  plantation  of  "  many 
millions  of  timber-trees,"  and  the  present  navy 
of  Great  Britain  has  been  constructed  with  the 
oaks  which  the  genius  of  Evelyn  planted.  If 
the  public  have  borrowed  the  names  of  some 
Lords  to  grace  a  Sandwich  and  a  Spencer,  we 
may  be  allowed  to  raise  into  titles  of  literary 
nobility  those  distinctions  which  the  public  voice 
has  attached  to  some  authors;  JEschylus  Potter, 
Athenian  Stuart,  and  Anacreon  Moore. 

This   intellectual   nobility  is  not  chimerical ; 
does  it  not  separate  a  man  from  the  crowd  ?  When- 


274  LITERARY  HONOURS. 

ever  the  rightful  possessor  appears,  will  not  the 
eyes  of  all  spectators  be  fixed  on  him  ?  I  allude 
to  scenes  which  I  have  witnessed.  Will  not 
even  literary  honours  add  a  nobility  to  nobility  ? 
and  teach  the  nation  to  esteem  a  name  which 
might  otherwise  be  hidden  under  its  rank,  and 
remain  unknown  ?  Our  illustrious  list  of  literary 
noblemen  is  far  more  glorious  than  the  satirical 
"  Catalogue  of  Noble  Authors,"  drawn  up  by  a 
polished  and  heartless  cynic,  who  has  pointed 
his  brilliant  shafts  at  all  who  were  chivalrous  in 
spirit,  or  appertained  to  the  family  of  genius. 
One  may  presume  on  the  existence  of  this  in- 
tellectual nobility,  from  the  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstance that  the  Great  have  actually  felt  a 
jealousy  of  the  literary  rank.  But  no  rivality 
can  exist  in  the  solitary  honour  conferred  on  an 
author ;  an  honour  not  derived  from  birth,  nor 
creation,  but  from  PUBLIC  OPINION  ;  and  as  in- 
separable from  his  name,  as  an  essential  quality 
is  from  its  object ;  for  the  diamond  will  sparkle 
and  the  rose  will  be  fragrant,  otherwise,  it  is 
no  diamond  nor  rose.  The  great  may  well 
condescend  to  be  humble  to  Genius,  since  genius 
pays  its  homage  in  becoming  proud  of  that  hu- 
mility. Cardinal  Richelieu  was  mortified  at  the 
celebrity  of  the  unbending  Corneille  ;  several 
noblemen  were  at  Pope's  indifference  to  their 
rank ;  and  Magliabechi,  the  book-prodigy  of  his 
age,  whom  every  literary  stranger  visited  at 


LITERARY  HONOURS.  275 

Florence,  assured  Lord  Raley,  that  the  Duke 
of  Tuscany  had  become  jealous  of  the  attention 
he  was  receiving  from  foreigners,  as  they  usu- 
ally went  first  to  see  Magliabechi  before  the 
Grand  Duke.  A  confession  by  Montesquieu 
states,  with  open  caudour,  a  fact  in  his  life,  which 
confirms  this  jealousy  of  the  Great  with  the  Li- 
terary Character.  "  On  my  entering  into  life, 
I  was  spoken  of  as  a  man  of  talents,  and  people 
of  condition  gave  me  a  favourable  reception; 
but  when  the  success  of  my  Persian  Letters 
proved  perhaps  that  I  was  not  unworthy  of  my 
reputation,  and  the  public  began  to  esteem  me, 
my  reception  with  the  great  was  discouraging, 
and  I  experienced  innumerable  mortifications." 
Montesquieu  subjoins  a  reflection  sufficiently 
humiliating  for  the  mere  nobleman :  "  The  v 
Great,  inwardly  wounded  with  the  glory  of  a 
celebrated  name,  seek  to  humble  it.  In  general 
he  only  can  patiently  endure  the  fame  of  others, 
who  deserves  fame  himself."  This  sort  of  jea- 
lousy unquestionably  prevailed  in  the  late  Lord 
Orford ;  a  wit,  a  man  of  the  world,  and  a  man 
of  rank,  but  while  he  considered  literature  as  a 
mere  amusement,  he  was  mortified  at  not  ob- 
taining literary  celebrity ;  he  felt  his  authorial, 
always  beneath  his  personal  character ;  he  broke 
with  every  literary  man  who  looked  up  to  him 
as  their  friend  j  and  how  he  has  delivered  his 


276  LITERARY  HONOURS. 

feelings  on  Johnson,  Goldsmith  and  Gray,  whom 
unfortunately  for  him  he  personally  knew,  it  fell 
to  my  lot  to  discover ;  I  could  add,  but  not  dimi- 
nish, what  has  been  called  the  severity  of  that 
delineation-* 

Who  was  the  dignified  character,  Lord  Ches- 
terfield or  Samuel  Johnson,  when  the  great  au- 
thor, proud  of  his  labour,  rejected  his  lordship's 
sneaking  patronage  ?  "  I  Talue  myself,"  says 
Swift,  "  upon  making  the  ministry  desire  to  be 
acquainted  with  Parnell,  and  not  Parnell  with 
the  ministry."  Piron  would  not  suffer  the  Lite- 
rary Character  to  be  lowered  in  his  presence. 
Entering  the  apartment  of  a  nobleman,  who  was 
conducting  another  peer  to  the  stairs  head,  the 
latter  stopped  to  make  way  for  Piron.  "  Pass 
on  my  lord,"  said  the  noble  master,  u  pass,  he 
is  only  a  poet."  Piron  replied,  "  since  our  qual- 
ities are  declared,  I  shall  take  my  rank,"  and 
placed  himself  before  thd  lord.  Nor  is  this 
pride,  the  true  source  of  elevated  character,  re- 
fused to  the  great  artist  as  well  as  the  great  au- 
thor. Michael  Angelo,  invited  by  Julius  II.  to 
the  Court  of  Rome,  found  that  intrigue  had  in- 
disposed his  Holiness  towards  him,  and  more  than 
once,  the  great  artist  was  suffered  to  linger  in  at- 

*  Calamities  of  Authors,  vol.  i. 


LITERARY  HONOURS.  277 

tendance  in  the  anti-chamber.  One  day  the  in- 
dignant man  of  genius  exclaimed,  "  tell  his 
holiness,  if  he  wants  me,  he  must  look  for  me 
elsewhere."  He  flew  back  to  his  beloved  Flo- 
rence, to  proceed  with  that  celebrated  cartoon, 
which  afterwards  became  a  favourite  study  with 
all  artists.  Thrice  the  Pope  wrote  for  his  return, 
and  at  length  menaced  the  little  state  of  Tuscany 
with  war,  if  Michael  Angelo  prolonged  his  ab- 
sence. He  returned.  The  sublime  artist  knelt 
at  the  feet  of  the  Father  of  the  Church,  turning 
aside  his  troubled  countenance  in  silence  ;  an  in- 
termeddling Bishop  offered  himself  as  a  mediator, 
apologising  for  our  artist  by  observing,  that  "  of 
this  proud  humour  are  these  painters  made  !"  Ju- 
lius turned  to  this  pitiable  mediator,  and,  as  Vasari 
tells  used  a  switch  on  this  occasion,  observing, 
"  you  speak  injuriously  of  him,  while  I  am  silent. 
It  is  you  who  are  ignorant."  Raising  Michael 
Angelo,  Julius  II.  embraced  the  man  of  genius. 
"  I  can  make  lords  of  you  every  day,  but  I  can- 
not create  a  Titian,"  said  the  Emperor  Charles 
V.  to  his  courtiers,  who  had  become  jealous  of 
the  hours,  and  the  half-hours,  which  that  mon- 
arch managed,  that  he  might  converse  with  the 
man  of  genius  at  his  work.  There  is  an  elevated 
intercourse  between  Power  and  Genius  ;  and  if 
they  are  deficient  in  reciprocal  esteem,  neither 
are  great.  The  intellectual  nobility  seems  to 


278  LITERARY  HONOURS. 

have  been  asserted  by  De  Harlay,  a  great  French 
statesman,  for  when  the  academy  was  once  not 
received  with  royal  honours,  he  complained  to 
the  French  monarch,  observing,  that  when  "  a 
man  of  letters  was  presented  to  Francis  I.  for  the 
first  time,  the  king  always  advanced  three  steps 
from  the  throne  to  receive  him." 

If  ever  the  voice  of  individuals  can  recom- 
pense a  life  of  literary  labour  it  is  in  speaking  a 
foreign  accent — it  sounds  like  the  distant  plau- 
dit of  posterity.  The  distance  of  space  between 
the  literary  character  and  the  inquirer  in  some 
respects  represents  the  distance  of  time  which 
separates  the  author  from  the  next  age.  Fon- 
tenelle  was  never  more  gratified  than  when  a 
Swede,  arriving  at  the  gates  of  Paris,  inquired  of 
the  custom-house  officers  where  Fontenelle  re- 
sided, and  expressed  his  indignation  that  not 
one  of  them  bad  ever  heard  of  his  name.  Hobbes 
expresses  his  proud  delight  that  his  portrait  was 
sought  after  by  foreigners,  and  that  the  Great 
Duke  of  Tuscany  made  the  philosopher  the  ob- 
ject of  his  first  inquiries.  Camden  was  not  in- 
sensible to  the  visits  of  German  noblemen,  who 
were  desirous  of  seeing  the  British  Pliny;  and 
Pocock,  while  he  received  no  aid  from  patronage 
at  home  for  his  Oriental  studies,  never  relaxed 
in  those  unrequited  labours,  from  the  warm  per- 


LITERARY  HONOURS.  27$ 

sonal  testimonies  of  learned  foreigners,  who  has- 
tened to  see  and  converse  with  this  prodigy  of 
eastern  learning. 

Yes  !  to  the  very  presence  of  the  man  of  genius 
will  the  world  spontaneously  pay  their  tribute  of 
respect,  of  admiration,  or  of  love ;  many  a  pil- 
grimage has  he  lived  to  receive,  and  many  a 
crowd  has  followed  his  footsteps.  There  are 
days  in  the  life  of  genius  which  repay  its  suffer- 
ings. Demosthenes  confessed  he  was  pleased 
when  even  a  fish-woman  of  Athens  pointed  him 
out.  Corneille  had  his  particular  seat  in  the 
theatre,  and  the  audience  would  rise  to  salute 
him  when  he  entered.  At  the  presence  of  Raynal 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  the  speaker  was  re- 
quested to  suspend  the  debate  till  that  illustrious 
foreigner,  who  had  written  on  the  English  parlia- 
ment, was  there  placed  and  distinguished,  to  his 
honour.  Spinosa,  when  he  gained  a  humble 
livelihood  by  grinding  optical  glasses,  at  an  ob- 
scure village  in  Holland,  was  visited  by  the  first 
General  in  Europe,  who,  for  the  sake  of  this 
philosophical  conference,  suspended  his  march. 

In  all  ages,  and  in  all  countries,  has  this  feeling 
been  created ;  nor  is  it  a  temporary  ebullition, 
nor  an  individual  honour ;  it  comes  out  of  the 
heart  of  man.  In  Spain,  whatever  was  most  beau- 
tiful in  its  kind  was  described  by  the  name  of  the 


280  LITERARY  HONOURS. 

great  Spanish  bard  ;  every  thing  excellent  was 
called  a  Lope.  Italy  would  furnish  a  volume  of 
the  public  honours  decreed  to  literary  men,  nor 
is  that  spirit  extinct,  though  the  national  character 
has  fallen  by  the  chance  of  fortune;  and  Metas- 
tasio  and  Tiraboschi  received  what  had  been 
accorded  to  Petrarch  and  to  Poggio.  Germany, 
patriotic  to  its  literary  characters,  is  the  land  of 
the  enthusiasm  of  genius.  On  the  borders  of  the 
Linnet,  in  the  public  walk  of  Zurich,  the  monu- 
ment of  Gesner,  erected  by  the  votes  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  attests  their  sensibility ;  and  a  solemn 
funeral  honoured  the  remains  of  Klopstock,  led 
by  the  senate  of  Hamburgh,  with  fifty  thousand 
votaries,  so  penetrated  by  one  universal  sentiment, 
that  this  multitude  preserved  a  mournful  silence, 
and  the  interference  of  the  police  ceased  to  be 
necessary  through  the  city  at  the  solemn  burial 
of  the  man  of  genius.  Has  even  Holland  proved 
insensible  ?  The  statue  of  Erasmus,  in  Rotter- 
dam, still  animates  her  young  students,  and  offers 
a  noble  example  to  her  neighbours  of  the  influ- 
ence even  of  the  sight  of  the  statue  of  a  man  of 
genius ;  nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  the  senate 
of  Rotterdam  declared  of  the  emigrant  Bayle, 
that  "  such  a  man  should  not  be  considered  as  a 
foreigner."  In  France,  since  Francis  I.  created 
genius,  and  Louis  XIV.  knew  to  be  liberal  to  it, 
the  impulse  was  communicated  to  the  French 
people.  There  the  statues  of  their  illustrious 


LITERARY  HONOURS.  281 

men  spread  inspiration  on  the  spots  which  living 
they  would  have  haunted — in  their  theatres  the 
great  dramatists ;  in  their  Institute  their  illus- 
trious authors  ;  in  their  public  edifices  their  other 
men  of  genius.*  This  is  worthy  of  the  country 
which  privileged  the  family  of  La  Fontaine  to 
be  for  ever  exempt  from  taxes,  and  decreed  that 
the  productions  of  the  mind  were  not  seizable, 
when  the  creditors  of  Crebillon  would  have  at- 
tached the  produce  of  his  tragedies.  These  dis- 
tinctive honours  accorded  to  genius  were  in 
unison  with  their  decree  respecting  the  will  of 
Bayle.  It  was  the  subject  of  a  lawsuit  between 
the  heir  of  the  will,  and  the  inheritor  by  blood. 
The  latter  contested  that  this  great  literary  cha- 
racter, being  a  fugitive  for  religion  and  dying  in 
a  prohibited  country,  was  without  the  power  of 
disposing  of  his  property,  and  that  our  author, 

*  We  cannot  bury  the  Fame  of  our  English  worthies — that 
exists  before  us,  independent  of  ourselves ;  but  we  bury  the 
influence  of  their  inspiring  presence  in  those  immortal  memo- 
rials of  genius  easy  to  be  read  by  all  men,  their  statues  and  their 
busts,  consigning  them  to  spots  seldom  visited,  and  often  too 
obscure  to  be  viewed.  Count  Algarotti  has  ingeniously  said, 
"  L'argent  que  nous  employons  en  tabatieres  et  en  pompons 
servoit  aux  anciens  a  celebrer  la  memoire  des  grands  hommes 
par  des  monumens  dignes  $e  passer  a  la  posterite  ;  et  la  ou  Ton 
brule  des  feux  de  joie  pour  urie  victoire  lemportee,  ils  eleverent 
des  arcs  de  triornphe  de  porphyre  et  de  marbre."  May  we 
not,  for  our  honour,  and  for  the  advantage  of  our  artists,  pre- 
dict better  times  for  ourselves  ? 
z  2 


282  LITERARY  HONOURS. 

when  he  resided  in  Holland,  was  civilly  dead. 
In  the  parliament  of  Toulouse  the  judge  decided 
that  learned  men  are  free  in  all  countries ;  that 
he  who  had  sought  in  a  foreign  land  an  asylum 
from  his  love  of  letters,  was  no  fugitive ;  that  it 
was  unworthy  of  France  to  treat  as  a  stranger 
a  son  in  whom  she  gloried  ;  and  he  protested 
against  the  notion  of  a  civil  death  to  such  a  man 
as  Bayle,  whose  name  was  living  throughout  Eu- 
rope. 

Even  the  most  common  objects  are  conse- 
crated when  associated  with  the  memory  of  the 
man  of  genius.  We  still  seek  for  his  tomb  on 
the  spot  where  it  has  vanished ;  the  enthusiasts 
of  genius  still  wander  on  the  hills  of  Pausilippe, 
and  muse  on  Virgil  to  retrace  his  landscape  ;  or 
as  Sir  William  Jones  ascended  Forest-hill,  with 
the  Allegro  in  his  hand,  and  step  by  step,  seemed 
in  his  fancy  to  have  trodden  in  the  foot-path  of 
Milton ;  there  is  a  grove  at  Magdalen  College 
which  retains  the  name  of  Addisou's  walk,  where 
still  the  student  will  linger ;  and  there  is  a  cave 
at  Macao,  which  is  still  visited  by  the  Portugueze 
from  a  national  feeling,  where  Camoens  is  said 
to  have  composed  his  Lusiad.  When  Petrarch 
was  passing  by  his  native  town,  he  was  received 
with  the  honours  of  his  fame  ;  but  when  the 
heads  of  the  town,  unawares  to  Petrarch,  con- 


LITERARY  HONOURS. 

ducted  him  to  the  house  where  the  poet  was 
born,  and  informed  him  that  the  proprietor 
had  often  wished  to  make  alterations,  but  that 
the  towns-people  had  risen  to  insist  that  the 
house  which  has  consecrated  by  the  birth  of 
Petrarch  should  be  preserved  unchanged ;  this 
was  a  triumph  more  affecting  to  Petrarch  than 
his  coronation  at  Rome.  In  the  village  of  Cer- 
taldo  is  still  shown  the  house  of  Boccaccio  ;  and 
on  a  turret  are  seen  the  arms  of  the  Medici,  which 
they  had  sculptured  there,  with  an  inscription  al- 
luding to  a  small  house  and  a  name  which  filled 
the  world.  "  Foreigners,"  says  Anthony  Wood  of 
Milton,  "  have,  out  of  pure  devotion,  gone  to 
Bread-street  to  see  the  house  and  chamber  where 
he  was  born  ;"  and  at  Paris  the  house  which 
Voltaire  inhabited,  and  at  Femey  his  study,  are 
both  preserved  inviolate.  Thus  is  the  very 
apartment  of  a  man  of  genius,  the  chair  he 
studied  in,  the  table  he  wrote  on,  contemplated 
with  curiosity;  the  spot  is  full  of  local  im- 
pressions. And  all  this  happens  from  an  unsatis- 
fied desire  to  see  and  hear  him  whom  we  never 
can  see  nor  hear ;  yet  in  a  moment  of  illusion, 
if  we  listen  to  a  traditional  conversation,  if  we 
can  revive  one  of  his  feelings,  if  we  can  catch, 
but  a  dim  image  of  his  person,  we  reproduce 
this  man  of  genius  before  us,  on  whose  features 
we  so  often  dwell.  Even  the  rage  of  the  mill- 


294  LITERARY  HONOURS. 

tary  spirit  has  taught  itself  to  respect  the  abode 
of  genius;  and  Caesar  and  Sylla,  who  never 
spared  their  own  Roman  blood,  alike  felt  their 
spirit  rebuked,  and  saved  the  literary  city  of 
Athens.  The  house  of  the  man  of  genius  has 
been  spared  amidst  contending  empires,  from 
the  days  of  Pindar  to  those  of  Buffon ;  and  the 
recent  letter  of  Prince  fchwartzenberg  to  the 
Countess,  for  the  preservation  of  the  philoso- 
pher's chateau,  is  a  memorial  of  this  elevated 
feeling.* 

And  the  meanest  things,  the  very  household 
stuff,  associated  with  the  memory  of  the  man  of 
genius,  become  the  objects  of  our  affections.  At 

*  In  the  grandeur  of  Milton's  verse  we  perceive  the  feeling 
he  associated  with  this  literary  honour. 

"  The  great  Emathian  conqueror  bid  spare 
The  house  of  Pindarus  when  temple  and  tower 
Went  to  the  ground •." — Sonnet  VIII. 

"  To  the  Countess  of  Buffon,  in  Montbard. 

"  THE  Emperor,  my  Sovereign,  having  ordered  me  to  pro- 
vide for  the  security  of  all  places  dedicated  to  the  sciences, 
and  of  such  as  recall  the  remembrance  of  men  who  have  done 
honour  to  the  age  in  which  they  lived,  I  have  the  honour  to 
send  to  your  ladyship  a  safeguard  for  your  chateau  of  Mont- 
bard. 

"  The  residence  of  the  Historian  of  Nature  must  be  sacred 
in  the  eyes  of  all  the  friends  of  science.  It  is  a  domain 
which  belongs  to  all  mankind. — I  have  the  honour,  &c. 

"•  SCHWARTZENBERG." 


LITERARY  HONOURS.  285 

a  festival  in  honour  of  Thomson  the  poet,  the 
chair  in  which  he  composed  part  of  his  Seasons 
was  produced,  and  appears  to  have  communicat- 
ed some  of  the  raptures  to  which  he  was  liable 
who  had  sat  in  that  chair ;  Rabelais,  among  his 
drollest  inventions,  could  not  have  imagined  that 
his  old  cloak  would  have  been  preserved  in  the 
University  of  Montpellier  for  future  doctors  to 
wear  on  the  day  they  took  their  degree  ;  nor 
could  Shakespeare,  that  the  mulberry  tree  which 
he  planted  would  have  been  multiplied  into  re- 
lics. But  in  such  instances  the  feeling  is  right 
with  a  wrong  direction  ;  and  while  the  populace 
are  exhausting  their  emotions  on  an  old  tree,  an 
old  chair,  and  an  old  cloak,  they  are  paying  that 
involuntary  tribute  to  genius  which  forms  its  pride, 
and  will  generate  the  race. 


(  286  ) 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

WHEREFORE  should  not  the  literary  character 
be  associated  in  utility  or  glory  with  the  other 
professional  classes  of  society  ?  These  indeed 
press  more  immediately  on  the  attention  of  men; 
they  are  stimulated  by  personal  interests,  and 
they  are  remunerated  by  honours;  while  the 
literary  character,  from  its  habits,  is  secluded ; 
producing  its  usefulness  in  concealment,  and 
often  at  a  late  period  in  life ;  not  always  too  of 
immediate  application,  and  often  even  unvalued 
by  the  passing  generation. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  of  the  characters  of  the 
other  classes  in  society,  how  each  rises  or  falls  in 
public  esteem,  according  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
times.  Ere  we  had  swept  from  the  seas  all  the 
fleets  of  our  rivals,  the  naval  hero  was  the  popu- 
lar character ;  while  the  military,  from  the  poli- 
tical panic  occasioned  by  standing  armies,  was 
invariably  lowered  in  public  regard;  the  extra- 
ordinary change  of  circumstances,  and  the  genius 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS.  287 

of  one  man,  have  entirely  reversed  the  public 
feeling.* 

The  commercial  character  was  long,  even  in 
this  country,  placed  very  low  in  the  scale  of 
honour ;  the  merchant  was  considered  merely  as 
a  money-trader,  profiting  by  the  individual  dis- 
tress of  the  nobleman,  and  afterwards  was  viewed 
with  jealous  eyes  by  the  country  gentleman.  A 
Dutch  monarch,  who  initiated  us  into  the  myste- 
ries of  banks  and  loans,  by  combining  commercial 
influence  with  political  power,  raised  the  mercan- 
tile character. 

But  the  commercial  prosperity  of  a  nation 
inspires  no  veneration  in  mankind  ;  nor  will  its 
military  power  win  their  affection.  There  is  an 
interchange  of  opinions,  as  well  as  of  spices  and 
specie,  which  induces  nations  to  esteem  each 
other  y  and  there  is  a  glorious  succession  of  au- 

*  Mr.  Gifford,  in  his  notes  to  his  recent  Translation  of  Per- 
sius,  with  his  accustomed  keenness  of  spirit,  has  detected  this 
fact  in  our  popular  manners.  le  Persius,  whenever  he  has  oc- 
casion for  a  more  worthless  character  than  ordinary,  common- 
ly repairs  to  the  camp  for  him.  Fielding  and  Smollet,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  cant  of  their  times,  manifested  a  patriotic 
abhorrence  of  the  military  ;  and  seldom  went  farther  for  a 
blockhead,  a  parasite,  or  an  adept  in  low  villainy,  than  the  Ar- 
mylist.  We  have  outlived  this  stupid  piece  of  injustice,  and  a 
1  led-captain'  is  no  longer  considered  as  the  indispensable  rice 
of  every  novel .' ' 


288  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

thors,  as  well  as  of  seamen  and  soldiers,  for  ever 
standing  before  the  eyes  of  the  universe. 

It  is  by  our  authors  that  foreigners  have  been 
taught  to  subdue  their  own  prejudices.  About 
the  year  1700,  the  Italian  Gemelli  told  all  Eu- 
rope that  he  could  find  nothing  among  us  but 
our  writings  to  distinguish  us  from  the  worst  of 
barbarians.  Our  civil  wars,  and  our  great  revo- 
lution, had  probably  disturbed  the  Italian's  ima- 
gination. Too  long  we  appeared  a  people  whose 
genius  partook  of  the  density  and  variableness  of 
our  climate,  incapacitated  even  by  situation,  from 
the  enjoyment  of  arts  which  had  not  yet  travel- 
led to  us  ;  and  as  if  Nature  herself  had  designed 
to  disjoin  us  from  more  polished  neighbours  and 
brighter  skies.  We  now  arbitrate  among  the 
nations  of  the  world  ;  we  possess  their  involunta- 
ry esteem  ;  nor  is  there  a  man  of  genius  among 
them  who  stands  unconnected  with  our  intellec- 
tual sovereignty. 

t:  We  conquered  France,  but  felt  our  captive's  charms, 
Her  arts  victorious  triumphed  o'er  our  arms." 

At  the  moment  Pope  was  writing  these  lines, 
that  silent  operation  of  genius  had  commenced, 
which  changes  the  fate  of  nations.  The  first 
writers  of  France  were  passing  over  into  England 
to  learn  to  think  and  write,  or  thought  and  wrote 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS.      £89 

like  Englishmen  in  France.*  This  singular  revo- 
lution in  the  human  mind,  and,  by  its  re-action, 
in  human  affairs,  was  not  effected  by  merchants 
profiting  over  them  by  superior  capital ;  or  by  ad- 
mirals and  generals  humiliating  them  by  victories  ; 
but  by  our  authors,  whose  works  are  now  printed 
at  foreign  presses,  a  circumstance  which  proves, 
as  much  as  the  commerce  and  prowess  of  Eng- 
land, the  ascendancy  of  her  genius.  Even  had 
our  nation  displayed  more  limited  resources  than 
its  awful  powers  have  opened ;  had  the  sphere  of 

*  Voltaire  borrowed  all  the  genius  of  our  country  ;  ou? 
poetry  and  our  philosophy.  Buffon  began  by  translating 
Hales's  "  Vegetable  Static's;"  and  before  Linnaeus  classed  his 
plants,  and  Buffon  began  his  Natural  History,  our  own  na- 
turalist Ray  had  opened  their  road  to  Nature.  Bacon,  JNew- 
ton,  and  Boyle,  reduced  the  fanciful  philosophy  of  France 
into  experiment  and  demonstration.  Helvetius,  Diderot,  and 
their  brothers,  gleaned  their  pretended  discoveries  from  our 
Shaftesbury,  Mandeville,  and  Toland,  whom  sometimes  they 
only  translated.  Even  our  novelists  were  closely  imitated. — 
Our  great  compilations  of  voyages  and  travels,  Hackluyt, 
Churchill,  &c.  furnished  Montesquieu  with  the  moral  facts  he 
required  for  his  large  picture  of  his  "Esprit  des  Loix."  The 
Cyclopaedia  of  Chambers  was  the  parent  of  the  French  work. 
Even  historical  compilers  existed  in  our  country  before  the 
race  appeared  in  France.  Our  Universal  History,  and  Stan- 
ley, Echard,  and  Hooke,  preceded  Rollin  and  other  French 
abridgers  of  history  ;  while  Hume  and  our  philosophical  his- 
torians set  them  a  nobler  example,  which  remains  for  them 
yet  to  rival. 

A  a 


90  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

its  dominion  been  only  its  island  boundaries, 
could  the  same  literary  character  have  predomi- 
nated, we  might  have  attained  to  the  same  emi- 
nence and  admiration  in  the  hearts  of  our  conti- 
nental neighbours.  The  small  cities  of  Athens 
and  of  Florence  will  perpetually  attest  the  influ- 
ence of  the  literary  character  over  other  nations  ; 
the  one  received  the  tributes  of  the  mistress  of 
the  universe,  when  the  Romans  sent  their  youth 
to  be  educated  at  Athens  ;  while  the  other,  at  the 
revival  of  letters,  beheld  every  polished  European 
crowding  to  its  little  court. 

There  is  a  small  portion  of  men,  who  appear 
marked  out  by  nature  and  habit,  for  the  purpose 
of  cultivating  their  thoughts  in  peace,  and  giving 
activity  to  their  sentiments,  by  disclosing  them 
to  the  people.  Those  who  govern  a  nation  can- 
not at  the  same  time  enlighten  them  ; — authors 
stand  between  the  governors  and  the  governed. 

Important  discoveries  are  often  obtained  by  ac- 
cident ;  but  the  single  thought  of  a  man  of  genius, 
which  has  sometimes  changed  the  dispositions  of 
a  people,  and  even  of  an  age,  is  slowly  matured 
in  meditation.  Even  the  mechanical  inventions 
of  genius  must  first  become  perfect  in  its  own  so- 
litary abode,  ere  the  world  can  possess  them. 
The  people  are  a  vast  body,  of  which  men  of 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS.  291 

genius  are  the  eyes  and  the  hands  ;  and  the  pub- 
lic mind  is  the  creation  of  the  philosophical  wri- 
ter ;  these  are  axioms  as  demonstrable  as  any  in 
Euclid,  and  as  sure  in  their  operation,  as  any 
principle  in  mechanics.  When  Epicurus  publish- 
ed his  doctrines,  men  immediately  began  to  ex- 
press themselves  with  freedom  on  the  established 
religion  ;  the  dark  and  fearful  superstitions  of  pa- 
ganism fell  into  neglect,  and  mouldered  away, 
the  inevitable  fate  of  established  falsehood. 
When  Machiavel,  living  amidst  the  principalities 
of  Italy,  where  stratagem  and  assassination  were 
the  politics  of  those  wretched  rivals,  by  lifting 
the  veil  from  these  cabinets  of  banditti,  that  ca- 
lumniated men  of  genius,  alarmed  the  world  by 
exposing  a  system  subversive  of  all  human  virtue 
and  happiness,  and  led  the  way  to  political  free- 
dom. When  Locke  and  Montesquieu  appeared, 
the  old  systems  of  government  were  reviewed  ; 
the  principles  of  legislation  were  developed  : 
and  many  changes  have  succeeded,  and  are  still 
to  succeed.  Politicians  affect  to  disbelieve  that 
abstract  principles  possess  any  considerable  influ- 
ence on  the  conduct  of  the  subject.  "  In  times 
of  tranquillity,"  they  say,  "  they  are  not  wanted, 
and  in  times  of  confusion  they  are  never  heard." 
But  this  has  been  their  error ;  it  is  in  leisure, 
when  they  are  not  wanted,  that  they  are  studied 
by  the  speculative  part  of  mankind  ;  and  when 


292  raE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

they  are  wanted,  they  are  already  prepared  for 
the  active  multitude,  who  come  like  a  phalanx, 
pressing  each  other  with  an  unity  of  feeling  and 
an  integrity  of  force.  Paley  would  not  close  his 
eyes  on  what  was  passing  before  him  ;  and  he  has 
observed,  that  during  the  convulsive  troubles  at 
Geneva,  the  political  theory  of  Rousseau  was 
prevalent  in  their  contests  ;  while  in  the  political 
disputes  of  our  country,  those  ideas  of  civil  au- 
thority displayed  in  the  works  of  Locke,  recurred 
in  every  form.  How,  therefore,  can  the  charac- 
ter of  an  author  be  considered  as  subordinate  in 
society  ?  Politicians  do  not  secretly  think  so,  at 
the  moment  they  are  proclaiming  it  to  the  world  ; 
nor  do  they  fancy,  as  they  would  have  us  ima- 
gine, that  paper  and  pens  are  only  rags  and  fea- 
thers ;  whatever  they  affect,  the  truth  is,  that 
they  consider  the  worst  actions  of  men,  as  of  far 
less  consequence  than  the  propagation  of  their 
opinions.  They  well  know,  as  Sophocles  de- 
clared, that  "  opinion  is  ever  stronger  than  truth." 
Have  politicians  not  often  exposed  their  disguis- 
ed terrors?  Books,  and  sometimes  their  authors, 
have  been  burnt ;  but  burning  books  is  no  part  of 
their  refutation.  Cromwell  was  alarmed  when 
he  saw  the  Oceana  of  Harrington,  and  dreaded 
the  effects  of  that  volume  more  than  the  plots  of 
the  royalists;  while  Charles  II.  trembled  at  an 
author,  only  in  his  manuscript  state  ;  and  in  the 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS.  £93 

height  of  terror,  and  to  the  honour  of  genius,  it 
was  decreed,  that  "  Scribere  est  agere."^ 

Observe  the  influence  of  authors  in  forming 
the  character  of  men,  where  the  solitary  man  of 
genius  stamps  his  own  on  a  people.  The  par- 
simonious habits,  the  money-getting  precepts, 
the  wary  cunning,  and  not  the  most  scrupulous 
means  to  obtain  the  end,  of  Dr.  Franklin,  im- 
printed themselves  on  his  Americans ;  loftier 
feelings  could  not  elevate  a  man  of  genius,  who 
became  the  founder  of  a  trading  people,  retain- 
ing the  habits  of  a  journeyman  printer  :  while 
the  elegant  tastes  of  Sir  William  Jones  could 
inspire  the  servants  of  a  commercial  corporation 
to  open  new  and  vast  sources  of  knowledge  ;  a 
mere  company  of  traders,  influenced  by  the  lite- 
rary character,  enlarge  the  stores  of  the  imagina- 

*  Algernon  Sydney  was  condemned  to  death  for  certain 
manuscripts  found  in  his  library  ;  and  the  reason  alleged  was, 
that  scribere  est  agere — that  to  write  is  to  act.  The  papers  which 
served  to  condemn  Sydney,  it  appears,  were  only  answers  to 
Filmer's  obsolete  Defence  of  Monarchical  Tyracny. — The 
metaphysical  inference  drawn  by  the  crown  lawyers  is  not  a 
necessary  consequence.  Authors  may  write  that  which  they 
may  not  afterwards  approve ;  their  manuscript  opinions  are 
very  liable  to  be  changed,  and  authors  even  change  those 
opinions  they  have  published.  A  man  ought  only  to  lost  his 
head  for  his  opinions,  in  the  metaphysical  sense ;  opinions 
against  opinions ;  but  not  an  axe  against  a  pen. 

A  a  2 


294  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

tion,  and  collect  fresh  materials  for  the  history  of 
human  nature. 

I  have  said  that  authors  produce  their  useful- 
ness in  privacy,  and  that  their  good  is  not  of 
immediate  application,  and  often  unvalued  by 
their  own  generation.  On  this  occasion  the 
name  of  Evelyn  always  occurs  to  me.  This 
author  supplied  the  public  with  nearly  thirty 
works,  at  a  time  when  taste  and  curiosity  were 
not  yet  domiciliated  in  our  country;  his  patriot- 
ism warmed  beyond  the  eightieth  year  of  his  age ; 
and  in  his  dying  hand  he  held  another  legacy  for 
his  nation.  Whether  his  enthusiasm  was  intro- 
ducing to  us  a  taste  for  medals  and  prints ;  or 
intent  on  purifying  the  city  of  smoke  and  smells, 
and  to  sweeten  it  by  plantations  of  native  plants; 
or  having  enriched  our  orchards  and  our  gardens ; 
placed  summer-ices  on  our  tables,  and  varied 
even  the  sallads  of  our  country  ;  furnishing  "  a 
Gardener's  Kalendar,"  which,  as  Cowly  said,  was 
to  last  as  long  "  as  months  and  years,"  and  the 
horticulturist  will  not  forget  Father  Evelyn  in  the 
heir  of  his  fame,  Millar  ;  whether  the  philosopher 
of  the  Royal  Society,  or  the  lighter  satirist  of  the 
toilette,  or  the  fine  moralist  for  active  as  well  as 
co  itemplative  life  ; — yet  in  all  these  changes  of  a 
studious  life,  the  better  part  of  his  history  has 
not  been  told. — While  Britain  retains  her  awful 


THE  INFLUENCE  OP  AUTHORS.      295 

situation  among  the  nations  of  Europe,  the 
"  Sylva"  of  Evelyn  will  endure  with  her  tri- 
umphant oaks.  In  the  third  edition  of  that 
work  the  heart  of  the  patriot  exults  at  its  result : 
he  tells  Charles  I.  "  how  many  millions  of  tim- 
ber trees,  besides  infinite  others,  have  been 
propagated  and  planted  at  the  instigation,  and 
by  the  sole  direction  of  this  work."  It  was  an 
author  in  his  studious  retreat,  who  casting  a 
prophetic  eye  on  the  age  we  live  in,  secured  the 
late  victories  of  our  naval  sovereignty.  Inquire 
at  the  Admiralty  how  the  fleets  of  Nelson  have 
been  constructed  ?  and  they  can  tell  you  that  it 
was  with  the  oaks  which  the  genius  of  Evelyn 
planted.* 

The  same  character  existed  in  France,  where 
De  Serres  in  1599  composed  a  work  on  the  cul- 
tivation of  mulberry  trees  in  reference  to  the  art 
of  raising  silk-worms.  He  taught  his  fellow 
citizens  to  convert  a  leaf  into  silk,  and  silk  to 
become  the  representative  of  gold.  Our  author 
encountered  the  hostility  of  the  prejudices  of  his 
times  in  giving  his  country  one  of  her  staple 
commodities ;  but  I  lately  received  a  medal  re- 

*  Since  this  has  been  written,  the  Diary  of  Evelyn  is  pub- 
lished :  it  cannot  add  to  his  general  character,  whatever  it 
may  be  :  but  we  may  anticipate  much  curious  amusement 
from  the  diary  of  a  literary  character  whose  studies  formed  the 
business  of  life, 


296  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

cently  struck  in  honour  of  De  Serres,  by  the 
Agricultural  Society  of  the  department  of  the 
Seine.  We  are  too  slow  in  commemorating  the 
genius  of  our  own  country ;  and  our  authors 
are  defrauded  even  in  the  debt  we  are  daily  in- 
curring of  their  posthumous  fame. 

When  an  author  writes  on  a  national  subject, 
he  awakens  all  the  knowledge  which  lies  buried 
in  the  sleep  of  nations ;  he  calls  around  him,  as 
it  were,  every  man  of  talents ;  and  though  his 
own  fame  should  be  eclipsed  by  his  successors, 
yet  the  emanation,  the  morning  light,  broke  from 
his  source.  Our  naturalist  Ray,  though  no  man 
was  more  modest  in  his  claims,  delighted  to  tell  a 
friend  that  "  since  the  publication  of  his  catalogue 
of  Cambridge  Plants,  many  were  prompted  to 
botanical  studies,  and  to  herbalise  in  their  walks 
in  the  fields."  A  work  in  France,  under  the  title 
of  "  L'Ami  des  Hommes,"  first  spread  there  a 
general  passion  for  agricultural  pursuits ;  and  al- 
though the  national  ardour  carried  all  to  excess, 
yet  marshes  were  drained  and  waste  lands  en- 
closed. The  Emilius  of  Rousseau,  whatever 
errors  and  extravagancies  a  system  which  would 
bring  us  back  to  nature  may  contain,  operated 
a  complete  revolution  in  modern  Europe,  by 
changing  the  education  of  men ;  and  the  bold- 
ness and  novelty  of  some  of  its  principles  com- 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS.  £97 

munieated  a  new  spring  to  the  human  intellect. 
The  commercial  world  owes  to  two  retired  phi- 
losophers, in  the  solitude  of  their  study,  Locke 
and  Smith,  those  principles  which  dignify  Trade 
into  a  liberal  pursuit,  and  connect  it  with  the  hap- 
piness of  a  people. 

Beccaria>  who  dared  to  raise  his  voice  in  favour 
of  humanity,  against  the  prejudices  of  many  cen- 
turies, by  his  work  on  "  Crimes  and  Punishments,3* 
at  length  abolished  torture ;  and  Locke  and  Vol- 
taire, on  u  Toleration,"  have  long  made  us  tole- 
rant. But  the  principles  of  many  works  of  this 
stamp  have  become  so  incorporated  in  our  minds 
and  feelings,  that  we  can  scarcely  at  this  day  con- 
ceive the  fervour  they  excited  at  the  time,  or  the 
magnanimity  of  their  authors  in  the  decision  of 
their  opinions. 

And  to  whom  does  the  world  owe  more  than 
to  the  founders  of  miscellaneous  writing,  or  the 
creators  of  new  and  elegant  tastes  in  European 
nations?  We  possess  one  peculiar  to  ourselves. 
To  Granger  our  nation  is  indebted  for  that 
visionary  delight  of  recalling  from  their  graves 
the  illustrious  dead  ;  and,  as  it  were,  of  living 
with  them,  as  far  as  a  familiarity  with  their  fea- 
tures and  their  very  looks  forms  a  part  of  life. 
This  pleasing  taste  for  portraits  seems  peculiar 


298  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

to  our  nation,  and  was  created  by  the  ingenuity 
of  a  solitary  author,  who  had  very  nearly  aban- 
doned those  many  delightful  associations  which 
a  collection  of  fine  portraits  affords,  by  the  want 
of  a  due  comprehension  of  their  nature  [among 
his  friends,  and  even  at  first  in  the  public.  Be- 
fore the  miscellanists  rose,  learning  was  the  soli- 
tary enjoyment  of  the  insulated  learned;  they 
spoke  a  language  of  their  own ;  and  they  lived 
in  a  desert,  separated  from  the  world  :  but  the 
miscellanies  became  their  interpreters,  opening 
a  communication  between  two  spots,  close  to 
each  other,  yet  which  were  so  long  separated, 
the  closet  and  the  world.  These  authors  were 
not  Bacons,  Newtons,  and  Leibnitzes ;  but  they 
were  Addison,  Fontenelle,  and  Feyjoo,  the  first 
popular  authors  in  their  nations  who  taught  En- 
gland, France,  and  Spain  to  become  a  reading 
people ;  while  their  fugitive  page  imbues  with 
intellectual  sweetness  an  uncultivated  mind,  like 
the  performed  mould  which  the  swimmer  in  the 
Persian  Sadi  took  up  ;  it  was  a  piece  of  common 
earth,  but  astonished  at  its  fragrance,  he  asked 
whether  it  were  musk  or  amber  f  "  I  am  nothing 
but  earth ;  but  roses  were  planted  on  my  soil, 
and  their  odorous  virtues  have  deliciously  pene- 
trated through  all  my  pores ;  I  have  retained  the 
infusion  of  sweetness  ;  otherwise  I  had  been  but 
a  lump  of  earth." 


THE  INFLUENCE  OP  AUTHORS.  299 

There  is  a  singleness  and  unity  in  the  pursuits 
of  genius,  through  all  ages,  which  produces  a 
sort  of  consanguinity  in  the  characters  of  authors. 
Men  of  genius,  in  their  different  classes,  living  at  * J 
distinct  periods,  or  in  remote  countries,  seem  to 
be  the  same  persons  with  another  name  :  and 
thus  the  literary  character  who  has  long  depart- 
ed, seems  only  to  have  transmigrated.  In  the 
great  march  of  the  human  intellect  he  is  still  oc- 
cupying the  same  place,  and  he  is  still  carrying 
on,  with  the  same  powers,  his  great  work, 
through  a  line  of  centuries. 

In  the  history  of  genius  there  is  no  chronology, 
for  to  us  every  thing  it  has  done  is  present ;  and 
the  earliest  attempt  is  connected  with  the  most 
recent.  Many  men  of  genius  must  arise  before  a 
particular  man  of  genius  can  appear.  Before 
Homer  there  were  other  bards — \ve  have  a  ca- 
talogue of  their  names  and  works.  Corneille 
could  not  have  been  the  chief  dramatist  of 
France,  had  not  the  founders  of  the  French 
drama  preceded  him  ;  and  Pope  could  not  have 
appeared  before  Dryden.  Whether  the  works  of 
genius  are  those  of  pure  imagination,  or  searches 
after  truth,  they  are  alike  tinctured  by  the  feelings 
and  the  events  of  their  times  ;  but  the  man  of 
genius  must  be  placed  in  the  line  of  his  descent. 


300  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS. 

Aristotle,  flobbes,  and  Locke,  Descartes  and 
Newton,    approximate    more  than   we  imagine. 
The    same    chain   of  intellect   Aristotle    holds, 
through   the   intervals  of  time,  is  held  by  them  ; 
and  links  will  only  be  added  by  their  successors. 
The  naturalists,  Pliny,  Gesner,  Aldrovandus,  and 
Buffon,    derive   differences  in    their  characters, 
from  the  spirit  of  the  times  ;  but  each  only  made 
an  accession  to  the  family  estate,  while  each  was 
the  legitimate  representative  of  the  family  of  the 
naturalists.     Aristophanes,    Moliere,   and  Foote, 
are   brothers  of  the  family  of  national   wits  :  the 
wit  of  Aristophanes   was  a  part  of  the,  common 
property,  and  Moliere  and   Foote  were  Aristo- 
phanic.     Plutarch,    La    Mothe    le   Vayer,    and 
Bayle,  alike  busied  in  amassing  the  materials  of 
human  thought  and  human  action,  with  the  same 
vigorous  and  vagrant  curiosity,  must  have  had  the 
same  habits  of  life.     If  Plutarch  was  credulous, 
La  Mothe  le  Vayer  sceptical,  and  Bayle  philoso- 
phical, the  heirs  of  the  family  may  differ  in  their 
dispositions,  but  no  one  will  arraign  the  integrity 
of  the  lineal  descent.     My  learned  and  reflecting 
friend,  whose  original   researches  have  enriched 
our  national   history,  has  thus   observed   on  the 
character  of  Wickliffe  : — "  To  complete  our  idea 
of  the  importance  of  Wickliffe,  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  add,  that  as  his  writings  made  John  Huss 
the   reformer  of  Bohemia,    so   the   writings    of 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS.  3QJ 

John  Huss  led  Martin  Luther  to  be  the  reformer 
of  Germany  ;  so  extensive  and  so  incalculable 
are  the  consequences  which  sometimes  follow 
from  human  actions."*  Our  historian  has  accom- 
panied this  by  giving  the  very  feelings  of  Luther 
in  early  life  on  his  first  perusal  of  the  works  of 
John  Huss  :  we  see  the  spark  of  creation  caught 
at  the  moment ;  a  striking  influence  of  the  gener- 
ation of  character !  Thus  a  father  spirit  has 
many  sons ;  and  several  of  the  great  revolutions 
in  the  history  of  man  have  been  opened  by  such, 
and  carried  on  by  that  secret  creation  of  minds 
visibly  operating  on  human  affairs.  In  the  history 
of  the  human  mind,  he  takes  an  imperfect  view, 
who  is  confined  to  contemporary  knowledge,  as 
well  as  he  who  stops  short  with  the  Ancients, 
and  has  not  advanced  with  their  descendants. 
Those  who  do  not  carry  their  researches  through 
the  genealogical  lines  of  genius,  will  mutilate 
their  minds,  and  want  the  perfect  strength  of  an 
entire  man. 

Such  are  "  the  great  lights  of  the  world,"  by 
whom  the  torch  of  knowledge  has  been  succes- 
sively seized  and  transmitted  from  one  to  the 
other.  This  is  that  noble  image  borrowed  from 
a  Grecian  game,  which  Plato  has  applied  to  the 

*  Turner's  History  of  England,  vol.  ii,  p.  432. 

B  b 

/* 


302  raE  INFLUENCE  OF  AUTHORS, 

rapid  generations  of  man,  to  mark  how  the  con- 
tinuity of  human  affairs  is  maintained  from  age  to 
age.  The  torch  of  genius  is  perpetually  trans- 
ferred from  hand  to  hand  amidst  this  fleeting 
scene. 


THE    END. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter.  Page. 

I.  On  Literary  Characters      ....  7 

II.  Youth  of  Genius    .......  18 

III.  The  First  Studies       ......  47 

IV.  The  Irritability  of  Genius         ...  69 

V.  The    Spirit  of    Literature,    and  the 

Spirit  of  Society        .....  91 

VI.  Literary  Solitude       ......  Ill 

VII.  The  Meditations  of  Genius       ...  121 

VIII.  The  Enthusiasm  of  Genius       .     .     .  142 

IX.  Literary  Jealousy       ......  165 

X.  Want  of  Mutual  Esteem     .     -     .     .  170 

XL  Self-praise    .........  175 

XII.  The  Domestic  Life  of  Genius  .     .     .  191 

XIII.  The  Matrimonial  State    .....  212 

XIV.  Literary  Friendships       .....  230 
XV.  The  Literary  and  the  Personal  Cha- 

racter      .........  236 

XVI.  The  Man  of  Letters       .....  247 

XVII.  Literary  Old  Age      ......  265 

XVIII.  Literary  Honours        .     .....  272 

XIX.  The  Influence  of  Authors     ....  286 


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